“We’ll close the deal to-morrow at ten o’clock, at my house,” said Montgomery. “You’ll be there, gentlemen?” “Certainly we will,” answered the first Boston man. “And bring our certified checks with us,” added the other. The capitalists went away, Bates soon followed, and Nick sat down in Cupell’s private office. “A great mine, that, Mr. Jones,” said Cupell. “Looks like it,” returned Nick. “Could you do a little assaying for me, Mr. Cupell?” “Why, yes, certainly. I’ll have Gillman----” “No, not Gillman. I want you to attend to it personally and send Gillman out somewhere while it’s being done.” “It isn’t possible you suspect there is anything wrong with that assay?” “It’s immaterial what I suspect, Mr. Cupell.” The detective walked close to the assayer and bent over him. “My real name is not Jones but Carter----” “Nick Carter?” “Yes.” “And you were here to watch and see that the assay was properly made?” “I was here for a purpose. How long will it take you to make the assay?” “Is it an assay of ore?” “Of cigarette ashes.” Cupell jumped from his chair. “Great heavens!” he exclaimed. “Can it be possible that---- No, no! You are wrong, Mr. Carter. Gillman has worked for me for two years and he’s as straight as a string.” “How long will it take you to make the assay?” “An hour.” “Then send Gillman out somewhere for an hour. Be sure and have him come back here this afternoon, however, and don’t give him cause to think that there is anything wrong. Understand?” “I understand.” “All right. I will return presently.” Nick put the silver match case in the assayer’s hands and left the office. Downstairs, near the edge of the sidewalk, a shabbily dressed man was selling some mechanical toys that ran by clockwork. Nick kicked over one of the toys as it ran in front of him. “Ain’t you got no eyes?” blustered the curbstone merchant. “That’ll stand ye in fifty cents.” Nick picked up the broken toy and saw a folded paper inside of it. He deftly abstracted the paper and tossed the tin automobile at Chick’s feet. “Here’s your money,” he said, tendering a bill. “There’s no sense in running those things all over the walk.” Chick dived into his pocket for change. “There’s a man in a brown derby and gray clothes around the corner keeping track of this doorway,” said Chick, in a low tone. “Tall?” “No, short and thickset.” “Keep your eye on him. Also take a good look at that young man who’s just coming out of the doorway now.” Gillman came out and Chick took his measure. Nick walked back into the building and was soon in the assay office. On his way he looked at the assay certificate brought by Chick. “No trace of metal,” read the certificate. Nick gave a whistle as he dropped into a chair in Cruse & Cupell’s office. “Salted for a million,” he muttered. “It’s a smooth game.” In a little while Cupell rushed into the office excitedly. “What’s the result?” asked Nick, calmly.