“Before I came on watch.” “Do you think he was returning to the hotel?” “I don’t know about that. He might not have been.” “Where was the boy taken?” “To a hospital not far from the scene of the accident,” was the reply. The detectives hurried to the place where the boy had been injured, and learned from the officer on the beat the name of the institution to which the boy had been taken. In a short time Nick and Chick stood in a private room of the establishment, making an examination of the clothing worn by the boy, who had not yet recovered consciousness. For a time they searched in vain. Then, at the front of the coat, appeared a narrow slit. In this was a folded paper bearing an address, and the one word: “Scatter!” It seemed impossible to ascertain where the boy had put in his time between the hour of leaving the hotel and the hour of his disaster. The address was that of a cheap lodging house off the Bowery, but little could be learned there. The tough clerk said that the boy had talked with one or two lodgers, and gone away. “A warning from the syndicate,” said Chick. “They are up to date in their methods, it appears.” There was silence between the two as they walked back to the house from which the jar had fallen. “It was intended murder,” said Chick. “Just a cold-blooded crime.” “Well?” “The syndicate had bribed him and used him, and were afraid he would not keep his tongue between his teeth,” said Chick. “Don’t jump at conclusions,” said Nick. “Accidents of this sort are not uncommon in New York.” “Are you going to the room from which the jar fell?” asked the assistant. “Right now,” was the reply. “We may be able to get some sort of information from the people of the building.” “The Great Diamond Syndicate may have gotten ahead of us,” said Chick. “Say, but that must be a hot concern. They burn houses and try to knock out whoever gets in their way. I wonder if anything will eventually happen to that smart chambermaid?” CHAPTER XVIII. BY THE HAND OF A WOMAN. The detectives approached the building from the opposite side of the street, keeping their eyes on the third-story windows. The officer saw them, and approached. “I thought you’d come back,” he said. “It’s a case worth looking up. I could get no satisfaction up there. Had to return to my beat too quick.” “Did you see the jar fall?” asked Nick. “I did not,” was the reply, “but a woman who was passing said it was thrown from the second window on the right of the entrance, third floor. She said she saw a head and an arm out of the window as the jar fell.” “What do they say up there?” “That the room is not occupied.” “What sort of folks are in that building?” The policeman shrugged his shoulders. “Tough,” he said. “Well, we are going up,” said Nick. “I’ll wait about here,” said the officer, who knew Nick and his assistant quite well. “Let me know if anything happens.”