Nick Carter's fight for life; or, The millionaire's nemesis by Nicholas Carter

Author:Nicholas Carter [Carter, Nicholas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Nick Carter
Published: 2023-04-06T02:52:06+00:00

CHAPTER VI

CHICK'S DESPERATE ENCOUNTER.

Once seated in the room, Chick started the ball by saying:

"What do you want of me?"

"I want your advice."

"State your case."

"First let me explain. I went to Sausalito, and did not find your man, of course."

"Why, of course?"

"Because the man lives in the moon. I got back to San Francisco by the late boat last night, and learned from Flat-Nosed Batson that I had been monkeyed with by a detective."

Chick whistled.

Here was news indeed.

"Where did you see Batson?" he asked, quickly.

"At the Red Retreat."

"How did he get out of jail?"

"On an order from Nick Carter, the man who caused his arrest."

"That was a queer proceeding, wasn't it?"

"No, for Chief Crowley was holding Batson subject to Nick Carter's instructions. Crowley would do anything to oblige the New York detective."

"Yes, I presume he would. And where is Carter now?"

"I have no idea. You ought to know, it seems to me."

"Why ought I to know?"

"Because you're his partner, that's why."

"Am I? And how did you arrive at that extraordinary conclusion?"

"By talking with Flat-Nosed Batson and afterward with Albert Dellman. We put two and two together, and tumbled to the truth in no time. This morning I came over to Temescal at Dellman's order."

"Why didn't you go up into the hills with your companions in crime and have the settlement with the colonel and myself occur at one and the same moment?"

Boston Sam grinned.

"I'd as soon tell you as not," he said. "The boss thought the business might be managed better if the forces of both opposing parties were divided."

"By which you mean that he expects to make as quick work of the colonel as you will make of me."

"Precisely."

The cool audacity of the ruffian "rattled" Chick somewhat.

"Well, then," he said, sternly, as he rose to his feet, and put his hand on his trusty revolver "suppose you start in now with your little circus. You have been hired to lay me out. Proceed with the laying."

Boston Sam stood up with a strange smile on his face.

He made no attempt to draw a revolver.

Nor was his attitude an aggressive one.

For one moment he looked at Chick, whose pistol out, and cocked, and then suddenly threw up his hands.

On the instant something happened that Nick Carter's brave assistant had not calculated on.

When he had entered the room he had unthinkingly taken the seat Boston Sam had indicated.

It was directly under a sliding trap-door in the ceiling, put in probably for purposes of ventilation.

When he arose to his feet the door slid back noiselessly and the face of a man appeared at the aperture.

The face belonged to Flat-Nosed Batson.

One of his hands clasped the handle of a tailor's goose weighing a dozen pounds or more.

His eyes, meanwhile, were fixed intently upon the person of Boston Sam.

When the latter raised his hands in air, Flat-Nosed Batson acted.

Down went the heavy iron in the direction of the un-suspecting Chick's head.

Only a miracle, it seemed, could intervene to save his life.

Chick could never explain why he moved his position at that supremely critical moment.

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