Nick Carter easily won the commissioner to his own views, and he then returned at top speed to the Columbus Avenue flat. None could have realized more keenly that time was of value, that the political fate of his friend and client, to say nothing of his life, even, depended upon what he could quickly accomplish.
Nick felt that he was equal to the emergency, however, as well as sure of his man, and he was shaping his course accordingly. It was precisely half past ten when he arrived, for the second time, at the home of the murdered woman.
Hawley, the reporter, still was waiting for information. Other reporters had arrived and were blocking the steps. Most of them recognized the detective and awaited him eagerly.
“Nothing doing, gentlemen, at present,” said Nick, threading his way between
