It was early afternoon when Nick Carter and Patsy arrived in the aristocratic suburb in which Harriet Farley dwelt, and nearly under the towering walls of St. Lawrence’s Church. Nick directed the chauffeur to stop, however, nearly a hundred yards from the sacred edifice.
“You must drop us here, Miss Farley, and return home,” said he. “I will take your telephone number and talk with you later.”
“Why are you averse to my going with you to the rectory?” she inquired, with a look of surprise.
“Only because publicity is undesirable at present, if it can be prevented. And it may be of advantage to me if my investigations are not suspected,” Nick explained. “If you were seen returning with two men after your visit this morning, curiosity might be aroused and inquiries and comments would follow
