Part 39 (2/2)

”A very pretty little present to send a fellow,” said Nick, smiling grimly. ”I rather think it is a lucky thing, Chick, that it occurred to me to give it a good soaking. I wonder what the woman will do next?”

Sunday evening when the detective entered his room he found Joseph writhing on the floor in evident agony, brought about by the contents of what had been a box of candy, and Nick instantly guessed that another attempt had been made upon his life, this time to poison him.

But Joseph fortunately had only nibbled at one of the pieces, and, beyond an hour's suffering for his foolishness, was not injured.

It appeared, when Nick questioned him, that a boy had handed the box of candy in at the door, saying, when Joseph appeared to receive it, that it had been ordered by the detective himself, and was to be placed in his study for him; and the boy had had the temerity to raise the lid of the box when he delivered it, wink slyly at Joseph, and exclaim:

”See! aren't they dandy? I tasted one; they're fine.”

And then he had run away, laughing.

Joseph had seen the candy, and, being fond of it, could not resist the temptation also to take a taste of it when he placed the box upon his master's table.

That same night, at half-past eleven o'clock, Nick was seated at the desk in his study, which is located on the third floor in the rear of his house. He was engaged in looking over some notes relative to an old case which he wished to recall to mind.

The shade at the window was lowered, but the light was in such a position that it threw his shadow against the curtain and outlined his head upon it almost perfectly.

Suddenly he was startled by the report of a gun, and the next instant a bullet crashed through the gla.s.s of his window and buried itself in the opposite wall of the room.

Later on, when he investigated the incident, he found that the bullet had pa.s.sed directly through the shadow of his head as it was cast upon the window shade, the person who fired it evidently supposing that his head was directly behind that shadow; but the fact that the light was at one side of the room, and had therefore thrown the shadow somewhat back of where he was actually seated, saved his life.

Further investigation disclosed the fact that the bullet had been fired from the rear of one of the houses in the block directly behind where the detective lived. It was not discovered how the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin had secured his position on the roof.

But this acc.u.mulation of accidents--so called for want of a better term--was altogether too much for the serenity and the composure of the detective and his a.s.sistants.

It was evident that Madge had determined to make his life miserable if it could be done, and when Nick recalled the substance of the letter she had sent him he decided in his own mind that the bullet had not really been intended to take his life, but only to warn him of the dangers that were hovering over him every minute that he lived.

In the meantime--or, rather, during the time that has already been mentioned--the detective and his a.s.sistants had not been idle. There had not been a day or a night when he and Chick and Patsy and Ten-Ichi had not been engaged in searching some part of the city for Black Madge, or for some trace of her.

They had visited the dens in the lower part of the city; they had questioned the policemen and the stool pigeons of the detective bureau, and they had even gone so far as to communicate directly with crooks who were known to them for information concerning the woman.

But none had been forthcoming. Black Madge was keeping herself as thoroughly under cover as if she were still in the prison in that other State from which she had escaped.

But after this occurrence of Sunday night, when the bullet was shot through the window at the detective, he determined to make no more half-hearted efforts to find Madge, but to set out at once that very night in search of her; and accordingly he put away his papers and called Chick into the room with him.

”Chick,” he said, ”do you happen to know anything about Mike Grinnel's place?”

”I only know,” said Chick, ”that he is said to keep one of the worst dives in the city, and that it is located somewhere in Rivington Street.

I am not sure about it, because I have never had occasion to go there.

The only thing I do know about it is that it is said to be a great Sunday night resort for thieves and crooks of all cla.s.ses.”

”Right,” said Nick. ”That coincides with what I have heard. I have never been there, either, Chick but I am going there to-night--now. The question is, do you want to go with me?”

”I sure do,” replied Chick.

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