“I wish I never had had anything to do with the business,” said Denton. “Look what we have gone through and for what, five hundred dollars a piece--Skip without getting anything. I would advise you to keep out of his way.” Greer laughed and said: “We won’t meet in a hurry. Do anything you like with Hilton Field; kill him if you choose, I don’t care. If Smith had not been a fool and literally given himself to Nick Carter, all hands would be rolling in wealth. Good-day; tell Skip I was asking for him.” Elmer turned on his heel and left the place. “Well, if that ain’t rather cool,” muttered Dick. “If Skip was here he would serve him as he did Rusty Owens. What a herd of asses we were to be taken in by that fellow.” Mr. Denton’s feelings quite overcame him, and as a means of soothing them he had recourse to the bottle. He was in a state of blind intoxication when he reached the ferry at Thirty-fourth Street of the Long Island Railroad. Dick had an hour and a half to wait for a train to Little Neck--few trains running to that point in the winter--and he strolled into a den kept by Jack Shea. After condoling with the barmaid over the unhappy fate that had overtaken the proprietor, Denton settled himself in a chair for a nap. * * * * * “Mr. Carter!” The detective was standing in front of police headquarters, and turning around, he saw Tambourine Jack at his elbow. The little fellow was puffing and blowing like a steam engine; it was a cold day, but the perspiration rolled down Jack’s checks. When he caught his breath, Tambourine said: “Come--Dick Denton.” “What do you mean?” asked Nick Carter, catching Tambourine by the arm, he having started to run off. “Dick Denton is down in Shea’s place,” Tambourine replied. “I went in there and saw him asleep in a chair, and the barmaid told me he was going down on the island.” “Sands Point, I suppose?” “No; he told her Little Neck.” Nick was still gotten up as a loud Englishman, and, not fearing that his disguise would be penetrated, he went boldly into Shea’s den while Tambourine Jack waited for him outside. Denton was still there, sleeping off the effects of the liquor he had consumed. After having a drink, and treating the barmaid, the detective went to the station and got a time-table. Dick had missed the train he intended to take and there was but one more that day, which left at eleven o’clock in the night. Leaving Tambourine behind him, Nick Carter crossed over to Long Island City and loafed about until it was time to take the train. He saw Dick Denton get aboard, and he was somewhat surprised to see him accompanied by Tambourine Jack and the wonderful Crackers. When the pair alighted at Little Neck, they took to the woods, but the detective never lost sight of them until they entered Sam Cole’s cabin. Nick crept close to the hut, and through a chink in the side he was able to see anything that might take place inside.