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With Links of Steel

<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> <h3>A STRATEGIC MOVE.</h3> Nick Carter had a head that was used to hard knocks, and it required more than one to put him down and out for any considerable period. The great detective recovered consciousness within half an hour after the blow received from Rufus Venner, and he fell to taking the measure of his situation the moment the cobwebs began to clear from his brain. He found himself bound hand and foot with ropes, and lying upon the floor of a dark room. That he was in the dwelling occupied by the Spanish dancer, Nick had not a doubt. As his mind became clearer and his eyes accustomed to the darkness, Nick discovered a narrow thread of light some yards away and close to the floor, and presently the sound of lowered voices faintly reached his ears. "A light in the next room," he said to himself. "Probably the whole gang is out there, sizing up my case, and deciding what to do with me. If they are there, I must get a better look at those two ruffians. I owe them something for their work of to-night, and I always mean to pay such debts. "One of them was called Dave, and it may have been Dave Kilgore himself. In which case, by Jove! I was right in thinking that this diamond robbery only masks some deeper and bigger game. "I wonder if they suspect my identity. If not, what sort of a game have they been playing here to-night?" Nick very quickly measured the various possibilities of the unusual situation. If the man whose name he had heard was indeed David Kilgore, then Rufus Venner, as well as Cervera, might be in league with the diamond gang, and the pretended robbery only a move made with some secret design. On the other hand, Venner might be entirely ignorant of Kilgore's identity, and without any serious suspicions of Cervera, being himself a blind victim of these notorious criminals. "If the latter is the case," reasoned Nick, "the gang may stand in fear of me, and perhaps are afraid that I shall foil some scheme they have in operation, or are about to undertake. Then they to-night may have aimed only to discover the extent and nature of my suspicions. "If that is the case, plainly it will become me to be a little foxy. I will see if I can contrive to overhear anything from out yonder." Bent upon wriggling nearer the closed door revealed by the thread of light near the floor, Nick quietly turned upon his side and cautiously worked his way over the carpet. He had covered scarce a yard, however, when the sharp, metallic ring of Cervera's voice fell plainly on his ears. "Look again, one of you," she curtly commanded. "See if that vagabond has come to himself." "That's your humble servant!" thought Nick. He quickly rolled back to his former position on the floor, and prepared to play the fox. In a moment the door was thrown open, admitting a flood of light, and a man strode into the room and dropped to his knee beside the motionless detective. "I say!" he harshly growled, shaking Nick roughly by the shoulder. "Brace up, you dog! Brace up, d'ye hear?" Nick groaned deeply, then slowly opened his eyes. "Oh, my head—my poor head!" he muttered, like one dazed and in pain. "Your poor head, eh?" sneered the other. "You're dead lucky to have a head left you. Pull yourself together, do you hear?" "Let me be! Where am I?" "You'll soon find out where you are. Sit up here!" "What do you say?" cried Venner, from the next room. "Has he come to?" The man at Nick's side turned his head to reply, and Nick then obtained a clear view of his profile. "Humph!" he mentally ejaculated. "Matthew Stall in disguise! One of the diamond gang, sure enough, and I now know I am on the right track." "Yes, he's finally coming to time," cried Stall, in reply to Venner. "He will be all right in a minute." "Bring him out here," commanded Cervera, sharply. "Get the wretch up, and bring him out here." This was precisely what Nick wanted. Stall immediately bent lower, and released the detective's ankles. "Get up, you varlet!" he then growled. "Get up, I say!" Still groaning, and incoherently muttering, Nick permitted himself to be raised to his feet, and Stall then supported him and urged him out through the open doorway and into the adjoining room. In his red wig and croppy head, together with his rough attire and dazed aspect, Nick certainly presented a wretched appearance. He blinked confusedly, glanced down at his bound wrists, yet at the same time took in every feature of the brightly lighted room. It plainly was the library of the house, and both Rufus Venner and Cervera were seated near a handsome center table. Upon it lay most of the woman's jewels and diamonds, evidently lately removed, and presenting in the rays of light from the chandelier above a dazzling temptation to such a fellow as Nick then appeared to be. In an easy-chair, near the wall, sat the man called Dave, at the time Nick was thought to be dead outside. Now, in the bright light of the room, Nick instantly recognized him to be David Kilgore, despite a heavy disguise which the criminal obviously believed to be impenetrable. Nick gave no sign of the recognition, however, being content to await developments, and to shape his own course accordingly. From that moment, however, the name of neither criminal was once mentioned; and Nick was compelled to infer that Venner might indeed be entirely ignorant of their true identity and knavish character. The eyes of all were upon the detective, as he stood swaying slightly on the floor; and Cervera sharply demanded, with a threatening frown: "Well, you vile miscreant, what can you say for yourself?" "Me?" queried Nick, pretending to pull himself together. "Nothing at all." "I guess that's right." "What should I say? Why have you got me here, and tied up in this fashion?" "You'll soon find out," cried Cervera, with vicious asperity. "What were you doing out back of my house?" "Nothing much," Nick evasively growled, waiting to learn which way the cat was about to jump. "Nothing much!" sneered Cervera. "You'll find that will not go down with us." "I was looking for a chance to sleep in your stable," muttered Nick. "You lie, you dog!" cried Kilgore, fiercely. "You were at the back window." "Was I?" "And your game was to rob me of my jewels," Cervera angrily added, with her eyes emitting a gleam as fiery as the blazing gems at which she pointed. "That was your game, you renegade!" "Do you think so?" "I know so!" Nick hoped she did. "And all I regret is," added the vixenish Spaniard, "that the bullet of my watchman did not end your villainous life." "We can end it now, señora, if you say the word," put in Matthew Stall, with grim readiness. Nick never accepted such scenes as this at their face value, for he had witnessed many a similar game of bluff. This one might be all right and on the level, he reasoned, yet there still existed the possibility that he was recognized, and that these remarks implying the contrary were only a part of some well-laid plan. "If you think I'm a thief, why don't you hand me over to the police?" he shrewdly demanded. The ruse worked. For a moment Cervera was caught with no ready reply, and Nick promptly decided that he was known, hence could not well be given to the police. Yet these parties so obviously aimed to hide the fact that he was known to be Nick Carter, that Nick quickly resolved to let them have all the rope they wanted, and to meet them with a counter-move—that of boldly declaring his own identity, and so disarming them of any misgiving that he had recognized Kilgore and Matthew Stall, or even had any suspicions of Señora Cervera. It was a very clever counter, and Nick went at it cleverly. "Why don't you give me to the police, if you think I'm a thief?" he repeated, when Cervera made no reply. "The police?—bah!" she now cried, with a sneer. "For what? That you may square yourself in some way, or make your escape, and then come back here to attempt the job again?" "H'm!" thought Nick. "They don't want to let me go before learning what I suspect. I won't do a thing but fool them in that." "Police be hanged!" Cervera quickly added. "In my country we have a surer way of removing such villains as you." "What way?" queried Nick, coolly. "Caramba! The garrote!" "Choke 'em off, eh?" "Or the poniard!" "A stab between the ribs, I take it." "Yes! It is what you deserve." "But you will not try it on me," declared Nick, confidently. "Don't you be too sure of it." "Oh, I'm sure enough of it." "The law would never reach us—don't think that," cried Cervera, with a passionate sneer. "Caramba! we'd plant your miserable bones where they'd never be found. Don't think, you wretch, that we fear to do it." "Yet I don't fear that you will." "You don't?" "Not I, Señora Cervera." "How dare you utter my name with your foul mouth?" screamed the dancer, with a vicious display of scornful resentment. "Not kill you? I've a mind to order it done at once, you wretch! I hate such reptiles as you!" Nick laughed. "If you were to order it done, señora, and the knife were at my throat," said he, "your order would certainly be countermanded." "What! By whom?" cried Cervera, with her passionate, dark eyes fiercely blazing. "I'll have you know that I rule here—and not here alone!" "Yet your command would be revoked, señora." "For what reason, villain?" "It would be revoked at the request of our mutual friend, Mr. Rufus Venner, to whom I presently shall explain my conduct, and also implore your own pardon, señora, for having made you the mark of my very unworthy suspicions," cried Nick, with a sudden dramatic display of dignity and confidence. It brought Venner sharply to his feet. "Good heavens!" he cried. "What do you mean, sir?" "Ay, what do you mean?" roared Kilgore, bracing straight up in his chair and reaching for his gun—a move Nick pretended he did not see. "I only mean, gentlemen, that I am no burglar," cried Nick, in his natural voice, at the same time raising his bound hands to remove his disguise. "Allow me, Mr. Venner, to present myself in proper person." "The devil and all his followers!" yelled Venner. "You're—you're Nick Carter!" "None other," bowed Nick, smiling and tossing his disguise upon the table. "Plainly, Venner, you are greatly surprised at seeing me—and I do not wonder at it." Yet for all that Nick did wonder a little, since he could not yet determine just how much of this scene was on the level. The faces of Kilgore and Matthew Stall, however, betrayed more secret exultation than surprise. Plainly enough both were now convinced that Nick did not recognize them, nor even suspect that he himself had been recognized—and these were precisely the two convictions Nick had aimed to convey by his masterly move in thus disclosing himself. "Yes, Señora Cervera," he hastened to add, before any of the startled group could speak, "I owe you a profound apology. I did you the injustice to suspect you, not only of being a thief, but also of being identified with the notorious Kilgore gang, three of the cleverest and most dangerous swindlers in the world." "Perdition!" gasped Cervera. "You astound me." "I was led to suspect you, señora, because your letter to Venner took him from his store just at the time of the robbery," Nick quickly went on to explain, thus putting his own strategy on a solid basis. "I shadowed you from the theater to-night, intending to watch you and your house, a design which has nearly cost me my life at the hands of your faithful watchman. "I am glad to add, señora, that I now have completely changed my views, and I trust that you will bear in mind that you were a stranger to me, and so pardon my unworthy misgivings. It is impossible that you, Señora Cervera, could be guilty of any evil, or know aught of so accomplished a knave as David Kilgore, or any of his clever gang." A shrewder move could scarce have been conceived. That Nick would thus have declared himself in the very presence of Kilgore, if known to him, seemed utterly absurd; and the eyes of both Kilgore and Matt Stall were aglow with a vicious amusement and satisfaction much too genuine to be entirely concealed. "Well, Mr. Carter," cried Venner, now hastening to release the defective's hands, "you certainly have had a close call, and are lucky to come out of it with a whole skin. These two men are employed by señora to guard her house at night, and they naturally mistook you for a burglar." Despite his keen discernment, Nick could not determine whether this man was lying, or was really as blind as his words implied. Content to await further discoveries, however, Nick laughed quickly, and replied: "Well, well, Mr. Venner; I am quite accustomed to close calls and hard knocks, and I assure you that I bear the señora's watchmen no ill will for having done their duty as they saw it. Señora Cervera is to be congratulated upon having secured the services of two such faithful fellows." Kilgore had all he could do to keep from laughing aloud, so blinded was he by Nick's artful duplicity. "And when I inform you, señora," cried Venner, "that Detective Carter is in my employ, and is really a royal good friend, I am sure that you will pardon him for having been so misled by your letter of this morning." Señora Cervera was blushing now, yet to Nick it appeared a little forced, and there was in her evil, black eyes a gleam he did not like. Yet she at once arose and came to shake the detective by the hand. "Oh, if my dear friend, Mr. Venner, says it is all right, I am sure it must be so," she cried, smiling up at Nick. "But I am afraid, Detective Carter, that you will now think me dreadfully severe, and my two watchmen more brutal than bulldogs." Nick laughed deeply, and glanced at the display of diamonds on the table. "When one has such valuable toys as those in her house, señora, bold men and vigilant bulldogs are both essential," said he, heartily. "That's true, sir; indeed, it is." "And with your permission, señora, I will shake hands with your two watchmen also, to show them I bear no resentment. After which I will take myself home, to nurse my little tokens of their vigilance and prowess." This brought a laugh from all, and Nick, ever shrewd and crafty, now shook hands with the two criminals he fully intended to finally land behind prison bars. Then he bowed himself out of the room, and was accompanied by Rufus Venner to the front door of the house, where he bade him a genial good-night and departed. When Venner returned to the room, he found Dave Kilgore seated on the edge of the table, with his false beard in his hand, and a look of intense distrust on his evil, forceful face. "Crafty—infernally crafty!" he cried, as Venner entered. "I tell you, Rufe, that man must be watched. He is a man to be feared—constantly feared! I'm cursed if I can tell whether he gave us that on the level or not." "Pshaw!" sneered Venner, contemptuously. "Of course it was on the level." "I'm not so sure of it—not so sure of it!" reiterated Kilgore, with clouded brow. "I tell you, Venner, that he must be watched, and we must be guarded. We have too much at stake to suffer Nick Carter to queer our game." "There is one sure way of preventing it," cried Cervera, with passionate vehemence. "Kill him?" "Yes! Take his life!" hissed the dancer, through her gleaming white teeth. "You were fools to have missed it to-night. Even the law would have acquitted you." "There are nights to come!" Kilgore grimly retorted. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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