“Lies!” echoed Anton; “who planned the murder of the elevator boy, after he had been bribed and used? You did, and Stella threw the jar from the window of her room when he passed along there, directed to that place by you!” “That is just the proof I have been looking for,” said Nick. “My friend, the chief, would have made way with me last night. It gives me great pleasure to send him to the Tombs on charge of murder.” The chief of the diamond thieves, who had been so vain and so confident of his own ability only a short time before, now cringed with terror. “They all had a hand in the affair of the boy,” he shouted. “We passed upon the matter at a full meeting of the local branch of the syndicate. If I go to the electric chair, they go with me.” “I would go willingly,” said Bernice, “if I could take this devil of a detective with me. You thought yourselves able to outwit him! See what has come to you!” “At any rate,” said Chick, “the Great Diamond Syndicate tried its best, and at one time I thought we were up against a stiff game. You see,” he added, “all the clues in this case have been supplied by members of the syndicate!” “Bad management!” shouted Anton. “I knew it all along. I told you what Nick Carter could do, and yet you allowed him to live when you had him bound.” “I don’t believe that is Nick Carter,” said another. “I waited under Stella’s window to-night and received from her a signal showing that he had been killed.” “You’re a fool!” shouted Anton. “That signal was given by Nick Carter himself to get rid of you. Your Stella is in the Tombs! Why he wasn’t killed in that room is more than I know!” “Because,” replied Nick, with a smile, “they waited for the arrival of a man who had the nerve to do the killing, and that man was in the Tombs.” “This ends the Great Diamond Syndicate,” said Chick. “You are mistaken,” cried the chief. “The syndicate will live on, and will train men to hate Nick Carter; to murder him.” The detective smiled and took a package of papers from his pocket. “You are wrong again,” he said. “Here are the records of the syndicate. Not two hours ago I filed a duplicate with the chief of police. By this time, every person in New York in any way connected with the syndicate is either under arrest or under surveillance. Your game is played out, gentlemen.” The prisoners were now handcuffed together and marched off to police headquarters. “That closes the battle,” cried Chick. “Not just yet,” replied Nick quietly. “There are names here that need attention.” As he spoke, the detective waved the records of the syndicate in his hand.