But Clarkson was wrong, for the following answer came from the great detective within two hours after the president had wired: “JULIUS HEPNER, Latimer, Vt.: Coming on first train. Keep hands off until I get there. NICHOLAS CARTER.” It was fate that influenced Nick’s reply, for he did not guess that in responding to the summons he was going to strike the trail of the man whom of all others he wished to capture--the missing swindler from the West who had come East with Ramsay. Ramsay was now under lock and key, and Nick’s journey to Vermont was to bring him in touch with Ramsay’s pal. CHAPTER XVII. “OLD HANDS.” The bank robbery took place during the night of Monday and Tuesday. On Wednesday morning, at seven o’clock, a neatly dressed man, wearing a pair of very respectable “Dundrearies,” made his appearance at the Memorial Hospital, in Latimer. “What can I do for you, sir?” inquired the assistant superintendent, who was in charge at that early hour. “Albert Gardner, the watchman who was shot during the bank robbery, was brought here, was he not?” “Yes.” “I would like to speak with him a moment.” “I am very sorry, sir, but he died an hour ago.” “Ah! He left an _ante-mortem_ statement?” “He did.” “And it is now in the hands of the police department?” “Yes.” “Thank you.” In half an hour the stranger had called at police headquarters, had introduced himself and had been cordially welcomed. At his request, the statement made out by Gardner was brought out for inspection. It had nothing whatever to say about the robbery, but nevertheless, it had an indirect value. Some time between two and three o’clock in the morning, so ran the statement, Gardner was rounding the block, trying doors as he went. When opposite the entrance to the alley in the rear of the bank he heard a sound that aroused his attention. He started into the alley, flashing his bull’s-eye ahead of him as he proceeded. He had not taken more than twenty or thirty steps when he was set upon, and, for a moment, roughly handled. Finally he succeeded in drawing his revolver. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, his antagonist fired a shot. This deflected Gardner’s aim, for he was hit in the breast. However, he fired and was certain he wounded his man. Then he lost consciousness, and had come to himself but a few moments before being found by the patrolman. He could give no description of the man, for the bull’s-eye lantern was knocked to the ground and smashed at the time the watchman was set upon, and thereafter the struggle had been continued in the dark. “Not much to be learned from this, chief,” said Nick. “The whole affair is the blackest kind of a mystery,” declared the chief. “The robbers left not the slightest clew behind.” “You’ve been going over the ground pretty thoroughly?” “Up to noon, yesterday. Then I got orders to wait for you.” “How big a town is this?” “About twenty thousand.”