"Good-night."
"Good-night."
The door closed, and the great director of detectives was gone.
CHAPTER III.
THE FIRST CLEW.
On the following morning Nick went at once to Eugenie La Verde's house in Forty-seventh street, disguised as a plumber.
The room which she had formerly occupied was nearly in the same condition in which it had been found on the morning after the murder, and a careful search offered no immediate suggestion to the detective.
From the sleeping room, he passed to the parlor floor, where he inspected all of the window-catches and appliances, casings, and panels.
Again without result.
Presently, he approached the stairs which led from the parlor floor to that below.
The door of communication was at the foot of the stairs, and was both locked and chained on the inner, or parlorfloor side.
There was nothing faulty about either the lock, chain, or door. They were evidently perfect, and he turned his attention to the stairs.
Stair-ways are convenient arrangements through which to construct a secret passage-way, and Nick never neglected them.
Suddenly he made a discovery. The third step from the bottom was not secure in its place.
For more than two hours he continued the search, but without further result.
It was nearly dark when Nick was reminded of the fact that he was hungry, and he quietly left the house in search of a convenient restaurant.
Two blocks away he found a beer saloon, which advertised meals at all hours.
Having entered and ordered what he wanted, he was presently engaged in eating it, when two swarthy, ill-conditioned fellows entered the saloon and seated themselves at the second table from him.
The very first words uttered by the men caused him to listen attentively:
"Captain, Inspector Byrnes made a call last night."
"Where?" asked the one addressed as captain."
"Upon that devil of a detective. I don't care to mention his name here."
"Ah; the one whom Sindahr calls the little giant? Exactly.
"Well, what of it?"
"It may be that he has set him upon us."
"Bah! No. There are no reasons for that. The inspector does not even know that we exist."
"He knows most things."
"Yes, but nothing of us. Still it may be well to-did you watch for the 'the little giant.'?"
"Yes."
"Has he gone out?"
"One never can tell, but I think not. I left there an hour ago, and Tony has taken my place. I could swear that he had not left the house when I came away."
Nick smiled.
"Come, John," said the captain. "We have been here long enough and we have other work to do. It is dark now. Come."
They rose quickly and left the place, and upon the instant Nick decided to shadow them.
CHAPTER IV.
SHADOWING.
Nick did not rush from the saloon as soon as the two men left, but sauntered carelessly to the bar, paid for what he had eaten and drank, and then went slowly out.
As he had suspected, they were not far away. They were standing upon the curbstone apparently engaged in earnest conversation, but in reality waiting to see if they would be followed.
The fact that they were so cautious, gave added zest to the chase.
Nick sauntered carelessly past them, to the avenue which was only about two hundred feet farther on.
A hall-way door between two stores stood conveniently ajar on the opposite side, and he entered it with the air of one who lived there.
Pausing in the dark hall-way, he began a rapid change in his disguise, and presently he looked like an old man in poor circumstances who worked hard all day, and took an airing and a glass or two of toddy in the evening.
Five or ten minutes passed, and then the two men suddenly separated, the one called John going away rapidly in the opposite direction, and the captain jumped upon a car that was passing at that moment.
He took his stand upon the rear platform with his back toward the car, as though he thought that he might be followed.
A car was coming up the avenue. It had to pass between Nick and the car that the captain had boarded.
For a moment, Nick would be screened from view from the platform of the down-town car.
He utilized that moment to the best advantage.
He leaped nimbly into the street and succeeded in getting two doors away before the cars had passed each other.
When they had passed, he was standing idly before the door of a "gin-mill" leisurely picking his teeth, as though he had just come out.
Presently he walked down the street, rather rapidly, to be sure, but not fast enough to excite the suspicion that he was following anybody.
Soon a second car overtook him, and he got upon the front platform.
The two cars were less than a block apart, and the detective could see his man easily.
At Fourteenth street the captain turned and abruptly entered the car on which he was riding and passed out upon the front platform.
Here the spasmodic flashing of a match presently denoted that he was lighting a cigar.
Then, with a quick run, Nick left his car and overtook the one in which the captain was a passenger, and going inside, seated himself at the forward end.
"This is more comfortable," he thought. "It is much less work to watch him from here."
Block after block was passed, but the captain showed no sign of leaving the car, nor did he, until it reached the end of the route at the Astor House.
Then he stepped off and boarded a south-bound Broadway car, upon which he remained until it reached South Ferry.
There the captain took the Hamilton Ferry boat, landed in Brooklyn, and started away down the street along the water-front.
Nick followed for a mile or more, when suddenly the captain turned and went out upon a pier.
"He will stop and look around when he gets out there," thought Nick, "so I will wait here."
He dodged into a deep shadow close to the water's edge, just where a boat was tied by a rope to a cleat upon the dock.
"The very thing!" thought Nick.
In an instant he had untied the rope and seized one of the oars; the next, he was sculling the little craft rapidly and silently along in the shadow of the pier.
Suddenly the man whom he was following, paused. Then turning, he came to the edge of the pier and looked over, full at Nick.
CHAPTER V.
TRAPPED.
"Hey, there!" said the captain, in a voice loud enough for Nick to hear, and yet with considerable caution.
Nick ceased sculling, but did not reply.
"Do you want to earn a dollar or two?" was the first question.
"Sure!" was Nick's laconic reply.
"Take me aboard, then."
"What fur?"
"I want to go down the bay a little way."
"Ye've struck the wrong party, boss. I ain't on that kind of a lay."
"I'll make it five."
"Haw fur d'ye wanter go?"
"About half a mile."
"What fur?"
"That's my business. Come, will you take me or won't you? I can't stand here arguing all night."
"Cops after you, boss?"
The man shrugged his shoulders and turned away.
"I'll take ye ef it ain't too fur," called Nick. "Climb in."
The captain returned. The boat was drawn up close to the dock, and with a quick spring the stranger alighted upon one of the midship seats.
"Now make haste," he ordered.
"Which way, boss?"
"Down."
"How fur?"
"Go until I tell you to stop."
Nick obeyed.
The tide was with them and was running like a millrace, so that they made quick time, and a mile was passed over in silence.
Then Nick stopped rowing.
"Say, boss," he remarked, "you said half a mile, an' we've already came over a mile. - Is the place much furder?"