The capture was safely effected, but the great detective had had an exciting three minutes. Patsy had had no trouble at all in getting the darbies on Gillman, and Chick had not had enough to speak of in making the capture of Starlick. Starlick showed fight and tried to run around the Obelisk, an empty handcuff dangling from his right wrist. Chick caught him in two leaps, threw him down, and put on the other bracelet. The manacles had a quieting effect, and Starlick undertook the rôle of an “innocent bystander.” “What does this mean?” he cried, angrily. “If you don’t know you’ll find out quick enough,” replied Chick. “It’s an outrage, an infernal outrage. Officer,” he turned to the man who accompanied Nick and Ramsay, “I demand that you have these handcuffs taken off my wrists.” “Keep still!” exclaimed the officer, sharply. “Nick Carter knows well enough what he’s about.” Starlick toned down, the very name of Nick Carter having a quieting effect. An hour later the men were in the police station, and Nick had sent a telegram to the chief of police, Helena, Mont., telling of the capture of Ramsay. Not one of the prisoners was brought to book on account of the clever swindle which would have been perpetrated but for the skill and vigilance of Nick Carter and his assistants. Starlick was found to be an old offender and badly wanted for a safe-cracking job in Chicago. He went that far West on the same train that took Ramsay back to Montana. Both men were tried and sent over the road. Gillman had all the elements that go to the making of a daring and successful crook. But there was little to be brought against him, and he was allowed to go his way. As for Montgomery, he shot himself the day following and was found leaning over his desk, dead. The revolver was still clutched in his hand, and a letter lay in front of him addressed to his two wards. A portion of the letter ran as follows: “I used your money in my speculative schemes without your knowledge. I believe I had a right to do this, for under the terms of your mother’s will I had an absolutely free hand to make use of the money as I saw fit. “For a time I made money on Wall Street. But my fate was the common fate of all stock gamblers. My own earnings went, and then I used your funds and they went, too. “I could not bear to have it known that I had lost your inheritance on the stock market, and so connived at this other operation. I was to help Ramsay. Ostensibly the Royal Ophir was to cost a million, of which I was to put up five hundred thousand dollars and the two Boston men the remaining five hundred thousand dollars. Really, only the money of the Boston men was to go into the deal.