Nick Carter's Ghost Story Read online

  “What do you say to that, Mr. Carter?” cried the colonel, with flashing eyes.

  “I would like to ask a few questions,” rejoined Nick. “Were you alone when you put those jewels into the box?”

  “I was.”

  “Has it been in your possession ever since?”

  “It has not been out of my care.”

  “Did you tell anybody about the finding of the jewels?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Please describe everything that happened after you found them.”

  “I was, of course, greatly agitated. I did not know what to do. For some time I sat staring at the jewels and trying to think what was my proper course.

  “At last I took this box from a drawer of my dressing-table and put the jewels into it.

  “Then I called to the servant who was in the dining-room, and asked her to see that the carriage was got ready, for though it is a long drive, I had resolved to make it, because I felt safer in that way.”

  “Did you go out of your room to call the girl?”

  “Only into the hall.”

  “Who could have got into your room while you were out?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Where was your daughter?”

  “In her own room.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I called to her after I had dressed, and she answered me. I told her that I was going to drive over here, and she was very much surprised. I did not tell her why.”

  “Did you meet anybody on the way over who spoke to you or came to the side of the carriage?”

  “Nobody.”

  “That is all I wish to ask.”

  In fact, Nick had no more questions. He was really at a loss for an explanation of this strange occurrence.

  If the pin had been taken from the room, by a person concealed in the house, it might have been possible that that person had escaped from the grounds unseen, and had given it to Mrs. Stevens.

  There was hardly time for such a trick to have been done, but in so strange a case every possibility was to be considered.

  If such a thing had been done, it must have been very near to the house.

  The thief must have known when Mrs. Stevens was coming, or she must have waited for him just outside the colonel's grounds.

  There was a place where the road was heavily fringed with trees, not more than a hundred yards from the colonel's gate.

  The trick must have been done there, if at all.

  Nick resolved to settle this small point, if possible, immediately.

  It was of no use to ask the man who had driven Mrs. Stevens' horse. Of course, he would lie, if there was any need of it.

  So Nick excused himself from the group on the pretext that he was going to search Mrs. Pond's rooms again.

  He remembered that just after Mrs. Stevens had arrived, a wagon belonging to the colonel had driven into the grounds. He quietly looked up the two servants who had been in this wagon. They told him that they remembered seeing Mrs. Stevens drive up.

  She had passed them on the road. They had had her carriage in sight for a mile before it turned into Colonel Richmond's grounds.

  Her horse had been driven at a good pace. It had not stopped. Nobody had approached the carriage.

  Nick was convinced that the men were telling the truth.

  Then how had Mrs. Stevens obtained that pin?

  Her possession of the other articles might be explained, but the pin was a “stickler.”

  CHAPTER IV. MILLIE STEVENS.

  After questioning the two men whom he had found in the stable, Nick walked toward the house.

  On the way he met Horace Richmond.

  “Mrs. Stevens has gone home,” said Horace. “She would not remain for dinner, although she has such a long ride before her. She seems terribly distressed by this strange affair.”

  “What did your uncle say to her?”

  “Not much,” was the reply; “and I was a good deal surprised. He begged her not to be nervous about it, and talked very pleasantly to her, but he steered clear of the matter of the jewels.

  “I don't understand it. I thought he would insist upon what he calls a restitution of the property.”

  “Perhaps, after all,” said Nick, “he isn't so far off his base on the ghost question as you think he is.”

  “Don't you deceive yourself about that. He is just as sure that his aunt's spirit removed those jewels as you are that that house is resting on its foundations.

  “And I wouldn't try to shake his belief just now,” continued Horace, seriously. “Simply say nothing about the affair this evening. Talk about something else to him. Stay with us as long as you can, and quietly look the ground over. Then tell me privately what you think.”

  This advice seemed good to Nick. He passed a quiet evening in the house, and nobody but Mrs. Pond referred to the robberies. Horace managed to quiet her quickly.

  But the next morning after breakfast she came to Nick with a very long face.

  “My father has been talking to me,” she said, “and I'm going to lose those jewels surely, unless you do something and do it very quickly. I don't care for their value, but they're mine by right, and I mean to keep them if I can. But, of course, I can't bear to make my father's life miserable. It will probably end by my compelling my husband to let me give them up.”

  Nick had his doubts about the possibility of such a thing, and they were made certainties very soon afterward.

  Mr. Pond arrived unexpectedly. When the story was told him, he “danced the war-dance,” as our young friend Patsy might have expressed it.

  “You don't seem to realize the importance of this matter,” he exclaimed. “Why, it's a million-dollar robbery, that's what it is! If we give up the jewels, the colonel will give us their value. By jingo, he'll have to.

  “Well, what's that but the theft of a million from him?”

  Nick was compelled to confess that it was just that, and nothing else.

  “And who'll reap the proceeds?” continued Pond. “Why, the Stevenses, of course. Nobody else gets anything out of it. They're playing on the colonel's superstitions for a million dollar stake.

  “Now, Mr. Carter, you go ahead and work this thing out. Catch the thief. Don't let the colonel get you out of the way. If there's a question of money, I'm good for the best fee you can name.”

  Nick's first move that day was to go to Mrs. Stevens' house.

  She lived well on her small income. It was a nice old country-house, with grounds of considerable extent, and a stable in which two good horses were kept.

  Nick rode over there on one of Colonel Richmond's fine saddle-horses.

  As the detective rode up the winding, shaded walk toward the house, he noticed a man-servant just ahead of him.

  This servant had a newspaper and some letters in his hand. He seemed to have come from the village post-office.

  Leaning over the railing of the veranda, as if waiting for this servant, was one of the handsomest girls Nick had ever seen. She was a beauty of the dashing, dark-eyed type—a girl of courage and strong will.

  The servant gave her the letters just as Nick came in sight. He not only gave her those he had been carrying in his hand, but he drew one from his pocket with a motion that suggested secrecy.

  Nick rode up to the veranda, introduced himself, and asked to see Mrs. Stevens.

  “Let James take your horse,” said the girl. “Come into the house, if you please. I will speak to my mother.”

  Nick went into the cool and pretty parlor. Miss Stevens left the room for a moment, and then returned with her mother.

  The detective spoke of the occurrences of the day before, and requested permission to see the room in which the jewelry had so mysteriously appeared.

  While they were talking thus, it happened that Miss Stevens drew her handkerchief from her pocket, and as she did so two little pieces of paper fell to the floor.

  “So she's read that letter, and torn it up so soon,” was
Nick's silent comment.

  Almost immediately Miss Stevens said:

  “There's the mail on the table, mother. I forgot to give it to you. There are several letters.”

  Mrs. Stevens glanced at the addresses.

  “They are all for me,” she said. “Was there nothing for you?”

  “No, indeed,” cried the girl. “There's nobody who writes letters to me.”

  “Lies to her mother, does she?” said Nick to himself. “Well, it begins to look bad for her.”

  Miss Stevens did not notice the bits of paper on the floor, and Nick by clever work succeeded in getting possession of them.

  Then, by Mrs. Stevens' permission, he went to look at the room already referred to.

  No sooner was he there than he got rid of the lady upon some plausible excuse, and so had an opportunity of examining the bits of paper.

  They were ordinary letter paper impossible to trace.

  One bit was blank on both sides. The other bore some queer little marks, but no writing. To Nick the marks were quite clear. They were the dots and dashes of the Morse telegraphic alphabet. They represented the letters n, t, b, e, t, r, a, written very small on a narrow scrap, not more than an inch long.

  “Don't betray,” muttered Nick. “Worse and worse. Miss Stevens will evidently bear watching.”

  As to the room, his inspection of it was of little use. He had not expected much. He had come to see Miss Stevens, principally, and in her case the investigation had certainly begun better than he could have reasonably expected. She was engaged in some secret affair. She concealed letters from her mother. She had bribed one of the servants. This last fact was proven by the manner in which the letter had been delivered to her.

  As he was turning these matters over in his mind, Mrs. Stevens and her daughter entered the room.

  “What have you discovered, Mr. Carter?” asked the girl. “You must know that my mother has told me all about this strange affair, and I am deeply interested.”

  “I have learned nothing,” said Nick, “except that this room can be easily entered, even when the doors are locked.

  “Take this door leading to the rear room, for instance. The key was on this side, it is true, but it turns very easily. A person with a pair of nippers could get in without trouble, and lock the door afterward.

  “I can't tell from the appearance of the key whether or not this was done, but I think it probable.”

  “You mean that somebody came in here while mother was at lunch, and put the jewels where they were found?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But who could it have been?”

  “I don't know,” answered Nick, frankly.

  “And how do you explain the presence of that other pin in the box?” asked Mrs. Stevens.

  “There is an explanation,” said Nick; “but I prefer not to give it now.”

  “As you please,” responded the lady, haughtily. “I can only say that I trust you will find this thief speedily, and end this annoyance to which we are being subjected.”

  “I don't think it ought to be hard for a person of your abilities,” said Miss Stevens. “I have already solved the puzzle.”

  “And who is the guilty person?” asked Nick, with a smile.

  “Colonel Richmond, of course.”

  “Why should he do this?”

  “Because he's crazy. That's reason enough.”

  “I'd like to hear you explain your theory a little further.”

  “Why, Mr. Carter, I'm surprised at you. Is there any motive for this so-called crime? No. Then it must be a crazy person's work. Is there more than one lunatic among us? Certainly not. So, as two and two make four, and the sun doesn't rise in the west, Colonel Richmond is the man. What kind of a detective do you think I'd make?”

  “There isn't any one alive who could compare with you,” said Nick.

  “You're joking.”

  “No; I'm serious. There are plenty of detectives who can reason up to the wrong man, but none, I'm sure, who can do it so quickly as you can.”

  Mrs. Stevens laughed at her daughter's discomfiture, and the girl joined heartily.

  “Supposing for a moment that your theory is true,” continued Nick. “How do you suppose that Colonel Richmond managed to get the jewels over here?”

  The girl became serious in a moment.

  “This is a very delicate subject,” she said. “I hate to cast suspicion upon any one.”

  “You refer to the new servant, of course.”

  “Well, we know nothing about the girl,” said Mrs. Stevens, “and, of course, when anything so strange happens in the house we naturally think of her. She brought good references, and she certainly looks honest.”

  “Did she have an opportunity to put the jewels into this room?”

  “As to that, I have talked it over with my daughter, and it seems just possible that the girl could have done it. I thought at first that it was not.”

  “Of course, it was possible,” exclaimed Miss Stevens. “She could have run up the back stairs at any time.”

  She proceeded to explain this theory, until it seemed quite plausible.

  And yet all the time she was filling the detective's mind with the blackest suspicions against herself.

  Here was the case: The plotters were trying to work on Colonel Richmond's superstitions.

  A celebrated detective had been called in. If he succeeded, the plotters failed, and the Stevenses lost the jewels.

  What more natural than that the criminals should wish to throw the detective on a wrong scent? Was it not to be expected that they should pitch upon this new servant as the best person with whom to deceive Nick.

  Altogether, Miss Stevens was making out a very strong case against herself.

  CHAPTER V. COLONEL RICHMOND'S NIGHT ADVENTURE.

  Of course, Nick questioned the servant. To have failed to do that would have been to throw light upon his real suspicions.

  She was a tall, slender, and rather pretty Irish girl, named Annie O'Neil.

  Her answers to all questions were plain and simple.

  She told what she had been doing on the previous day while Mrs. Stevens was at lunch. She had not been in the dining-room all the time, but had come in twice or thrice when summoned.

  During the remainder of the time she had been in the kitchen. Nobody had been with her there.

  When Nick left the house, he rode half a mile back along the road, and then dismounted and sat down under a big tree. In a few minutes a farmer's wagon came along. A young man, who looked like a farm laborer, was riding beside the farmer. He did not ride far beyond the place where Nick was sitting. In a few minutes they sat together under the tree. The young farm laborer was Patsy.

  “I got your message,” said Patsy. “I took the chance to ride over from the station with that fellow, and I've asked him a few questions about the house where you want me to go on duty. It seems that there's no show to get in there on any pretext. I'll have to camp around on the outside like a grass-eater.”

  “That won't hurt you, Patsy, my lad,” said Nick. “The weather's good. You're to keep an eye on the whole household, but on Miss Stevens especially.

  “This is the way the case looks at present: The girl is doing the work on this end in connection with some confederate concealed in Colonel Richmond's house.

  “You understand the game. It's to work the spirit racket on Colonel Richmond until he buys the jewels from his daughter or her husband, and gives them to Miss Stevens.

  “You must watch for the system by which she communicates with her confederate in Richmond's house. They work the mails, but there must be some quicker means to use in emergencies.

  “Try to snare a letter, or get a sight of the other party.

  “And be sure not to jump at conclusions, Patsy. I've told you how the case looks, but it may be any other way. I haven't begun to work down to it yet.”

  Nick mounted his horse, and Patsy strolled away in the direction of the Steve
ns house.

  When the detective got back to Colonel Richmond's, it was well along in the afternoon.

  He spent the remainder of his day in exploring the secret recesses of the old house. It was, indeed, a marvelous place, and Nick got a very high opinion of the ingenuity of the man who had designed its mysterious passages.