“By Jove, that dovetails well with Patsy’s report,” Chick declared, after Nick had told him of Mack’s statements. “The man with a figured vest must be the same Jack Conroy mentioned by Patsy, and the intimate friend of Kate Crandall. Both evidently are in this job, including Duffy’s wife and son, and very likely Duffy himself. What do you think?” Nick Carter’s reply astonished his chief assistant, even, for it was entirely unexpected. “I’m hit with a new idea,” said Nick, swinging round in his swivel chair. “Pull up here. I’ll tell you with very few words what I think, Chick, and what you now must do.” Chick drew up his chair and listened. What Nick Carter told him and required of him will appear in what occurred a little later. At three o’clock that afternoon, alone, and carefully disguised, Nick Carter arrived in the neighborhood of the Duffy residence, where he began a stealthy search for Patsy Garvan. He failed to find him, of course, and soon he noticed that the house appeared to be deserted. There was no sign of life through any of the windows, and the door of the garage was closed. “The birds must have flown,” Nick reasoned, pausing a short distance from the house. “Patsy must have found them here and they must have made an immediate move of some kind, or he would have telephoned to me again. He is trailing them and found no opportunity to communicate with me. If I am right, by Jove, I may be able to clinch my suspicion concerning the Redlaw letter, if it was written in this house. I’ll secure that evidence, at least, if possible.” Nick had sauntered around to the front of the house while thus sizing up the situation. The conclusion at which he had arrived was a perfectly natural one, and he mounted the steps and rang the bell, feeling quite sure that the summons would not be answered, and that he then could admit himself with a skeleton key and secretly search the house. Somewhat to his surprise, however, the summons was immediately answered. He heard quick footsteps in the hall. The door was opened boldly, as boldly as if no occupant of the house had any occasion for caution, or fear of a visitor, and Kate Crandall herself appeared on the threshold. The disguised face of the detective evinced no surprise. He accepted the situation as he found it. He bowed politely and said, with inquiring intonation: “I am looking for Miss Clara Randall, who was recently employed in the banking house of Madden, Mellen & Mack. I was told that she might be found here. Was I rightly informed?” Kate Crandall bowed and smiled. There was not a sign of distrust in her dark eyes. One would have said that she had not the slightest cause for fear, though Nick knew very well how audacious a bluff she was capable of undertaking. She had removed her street costume and was clad in a gray house gown of clinging woolen material that served to accentuate the graceful lines of her fine figure.