“Devil! you’ve got to fight for your life,” and the next instant George Richmond darted forward like a mad beast, and leaping clear of the floor flung himself upon the stranger. That person braced himself for the ordeal, and warded off the initial blow with the dexterity of a practiced pugilist. George found himself foiled, but he did not give up. Again he darted at his enemy, and the pair came together in a deadly grapple. Back and forth over the floor they writhed like wrestlers before an audience; now George obtaining a little advantage, now the other getting the best of it. At last Richmond found himself held against the wall by a grip of iron. He panted in his adversary’s power. “But one man ever held me thus before this,” he cried. “Who was he?” “Nick Carter, and, by heavens! you must be that same man!” There was no reply. CHAPTER XXXII. MULBERRY BILLY’S “FIND.” Margie Marne came out of the hospital shortly after her terrible experience in the house guarded by Nora. Her escape had bordered on the miraculous, and the girl was glad to get back to the humble home she occupied. Her first thought was of the woman who had been her jaileress and she wondered if Nora herself had escaped the flames. Having a fair acquaintance with Billy, the street Arab, she sought out the boy, and fortunately found him. Billy had heard of Nora’s suicide, and he at once posted Margie. “By the way,” said the little fellow, “I’ve made a find.” “You? What have you discovered, Billy?” “Something that I am going to show to Mr. Carter just as soon as I find him.” “It may amount to nothing.” “But you don’t know where I found it,” cried the boy. “Tell me.” Billy came closer, and dropped his voice to a whisper as he laid his hand upon the girl’s arm. “I found it in Mother Flintstone’s den,” said he. “Look here, Margie.” He produced a flat package, which looked like it had been stored away for years, but the moment the girl’s eyes alighted on it she uttered a little scream. “It’s the will, Billy!” she exclaimed. “What had Mother Flintstone to will away, I’d like to know?” said the boy. “More than you think. Let me see the packet.” Billy laid it on the table, and watched Margie closely. The girl seemed to be afraid to touch the package, but at last she picked it up. Opening the envelope, which looked nearly ready to fall to pieces, she drew forth a paper and opened it. The first line startled her. “What is it?” asked the boy. Margie said nothing, but her eyes dilated. “It’s a will, you said, Margie?” “It’s more than that, Billy. It’s the true story of Mother Flintstone’s life.” “Then it is important, sure enough.” Margie read on, her face changing color, and at last she reached the end of the page. “Mother Flintstone left behind her an important document,” she remarked. “That’s what the dark-faced man was looking for when he sounded the walls.” “No doubt of that.” “P’r’aps that’s why they killed her.”