“And Ramsay spelled backward is Yasmar,” added Patsy. “By Jove, you’re right! I never thought of that.” “No,” retorted Patsy; “it’s a good thing you have a man of brains on your staff.” “Let that pass,” said Nick, smiling. “Any old way, this is bully information. The report was true, then, and Ramsay and his pal have really come East and are at their tricks again.” “Don’t know about the pal, but I think we have come up with Ramsay all right. The man he attacked is waiting for you at the office.” “Great Scott, Patsy; that’s the most important piece of information you have brought us.” “And I kept it till the end for a good reason.” “The reason?” demanded Nick. “Oh, simply that the man himself is in no great hurry, and, besides, he’s a good deal better off in Nick Carter’s study than anywhere else I can think of. You will say the same when you hear his story.” “Well, you need not go into the details since you have the man at home, but what are the outstanding facts in the matter?” “They’re not hard to tell. This man, his name is John Lansing, was on board a Fall River boat bound from New York to Boston, when he was attacked by Ramsay--or Yasmar as he calls himself now--and was flung over the side. He escaped with his life and came to New York to give you the story. “I told him you were expected back in town by this train, and he said he’d wait till I came back with you. He’s had a pretty close shave and he was just a bit hysterical, but I quieted him down and I guess you will find him quite rational when you reach home.” * * * * * Half an hour later Nick was closeted with the man who had narrowly escaped death in the waters of the Sound. Mr. John Lansing he found to be a young man hardly more than out of his teens. His face was pale and on his left temple there was a large patch of court-plaster. “My younger assistant has told me something of your startling adventure,” said Nick, “and I am especially interested in the matter, for I suspect that your assailant is a man who escaped me in the West.” “You mean Yasmar?” “Yes, or rather Ramsay, to give him his right name. Since coming East he has seen fit to spell his name backward--the thinnest kind of an alias conceivable. But please let me have your story from the beginning.” “First let me ask, Mr. Carter, have you seen a copy of the evening paper?” “Yes, I glanced hastily at one, and noticed your case.” “That is what I wanted to know. What do the papers say about me?” “Not much; they simply print a dispatch from Boston, saying that Mr. John Lansing has disappeared.” “Any other particulars?” “Oh, yes, the usual gush about your being such a good man and all that. They mentioned, by the way, that you left New York on a Fall River boat Monday night with Mr. Yasmar, and that the last Mr. Yasmar saw of you was on Tuesday afternoon.”