“If he’s running away, he’s got a pretty good start.” “All the more reason why we should get after him at once. I declare, I wish I had run out there and hauled him in before you came.” “That might have been a good idea, but I don’t believe there’s any use in hurrying now.” Neither Kerr nor Folsom could understand Nick’s delay. The fact was he was waiting for Patsy. He kept them talking for several minutes, and then Patsy returned. “Speak out,” said Nick. “I want these gentlemen to hear what you have to report.” “Well,” said Patsy, “Claymore was in his office all the time from one o’clock to ten minutes of four, when a messenger came to tell him of Judson’s death.” CHAPTER XII. THE JOURNEY TO HANK LOW’S. Kerr and Folsom stared at each other and at Nick. They were no fools. It was clear enough what Patsy’s errand meant. “Then,” said Folsom, in a low voice, “you suspected Claymore?” “Oh, no, not exactly,” Nick replied, “but I thought it would be just as well to make it impossible to suspect him. That was all.” This remark did not convince either of the men. “You wouldn’t have gone to this trouble,” said Folsom, “if you hadn’t believed that he had a motive for the crime.” “As to motive,” replied Nick, “I can only guess, but if Claymore is crooked and Judson was straight, isn’t it possible that Judson threatened an exposure, and that Claymore would try to prevent it?” Kerr nodded. “That’s all right,” he said, “but in the face of this evidence,” and he tapped the messenger’s book. “It looks very bad for Hank Low,” admitted Nick. “You think that Claymore set Low up to it?” remarked Folsom. “Do I?” inquired Nick, mildly. “Well,” responded Folsom, “what are we to think?” “Anything you please. I am willing to take hold of this case, but, as I start under unusual difficulties, I want you to let me go at it in my own way.” “Certainly, Mr. Carter,” said Kerr; “but I don’t see the difficulties with all this evidence——” Nick raised his hand. “You’ve done first-rate work, Mr. Kerr,” he said. “The evidence is sound as far as it goes. But it don’t go quite far enough. The difficulties I refer to are the fact that so many men know that I am here, and that the only man who can say that Judson was murdered is dead.” “I see.” It was Kerr who spoke. Folsom turned pale. “You think, then,” he said, hoarsely, “that it was not a case of murder at all?” “I didn’t say so,” responded Nick; “but this I will say, for, as I am in it now pretty deep, there’s no use in concealing my thoughts from you two—but you mustn’t let it go any further.” “Certainly not, Mr. Carter.” “Well, then, I don’t believe that Hank Low did it.” Both Kerr and Folsom stared open-mouthed. “By thunder!” said Kerr, slowly, “if any man but Nick Carter said that——” He hesitated. “You’d say he was a fool,” remarked Nick. Kerr laughed uneasily. “I am afraid I should,” he admitted.