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<h2 id="XLI">CHAPTER XLI. NICK HAS A PLAN.</h2> Darkness had descended when Patsy sprang up the steps of Nick Carter’s house. He eagerly inquired for his chief, and learned, to his delight, that he had returned and was in his study. The young assistant fairly sprinted up the stairs, and burst into the room. “Well!” he ejaculated. “I began to think I’d never see you again.” “I usually bob up sooner or later,” was the answer. “What’s all this you’ve been up to? How did you break into this game, I’d like to know?” “That’s just what I did—I broke in,” was the answer. “Chick put me up to it. He was itching to have a hand in the affair, and had a hunch that somebody ought to keep an eye on Follansbee. He couldn’t do it himself, because you had left him in charge of affairs, and so I’ve been losing my beauty sleep—and most of the rest—for several nights. Nothing happened until last night, but since then things have been coming so thick and fast that they’ve taken my breath away.” Nick tried to look stern. “You don’t seem to realize that this is a breach of discipline,” he commented. “Now, chief, don’t be nasty about it,” Patsy pleaded. “Let me get this out of my system. My private information is that you couldn’t have done[199] without me, and when I get through, I think you’ll agree that I haven’t wasted my time.” The detective smiled slightly. “Go ahead and let’s hear it,” he said. “You usually get your way in the end.” After some little beating around, young Garvan launched into an account of his adventures from the time Follansbee and Stone had arrived at the former’s house, until the last glimpse of the miner had been obtained at the private hospital. The look of interest and satisfaction which came into the great detective’s face assured Patsy that he was pardoned. As a matter of fact, the assistant’s report, coupled with what Nick had learned for himself, brought the whole case to a focus, and made plain much that had seemed obscure. “By George, my boy,” the chief commented at the end of the recital, “you certainly have turned a trick or two, and I wish I had known something about it before I bearded Follansbee in his den. If I had, it would have put a very different face on that interview. I was all up in the air about Stone, but now everything is clear enough and——” “Then you’re better off than I am, chief,” his assistant interrupted, “for I can’t make head or tail of it. I thought it was Crawford that that scoundrel Follansbee was plotting against, but it can hardly be doubted that Stone is his victim—or one of them, at least.” “I will give you a little information to complete the exchange,” was the answer. [200] In a few brief sentences the detective gave Patsy his side of the story, and the young man’s eyes fairly flashed as he heard the grim details of the attempt on Winthrop Crawford’s life. “What a fiend that man Follansbee is!” Patsy exclaimed at the end. “Thank Heaven you were on hand to ditch his scheme. But what do you make of it now? What do you think Follansbee is up to in connection with Stone?” “I can’t say offhand,” was the reply. “Not a little remains to be seen. I had thought that Stone might be in hiding somewhere, suffering from a guilty conscience; but, on the whole, I was inclined to believe that Follansbee had drawn him into the net. Your revelations leave no doubt of that, and seem to indicate that we have time enough to save Stone. He needs saving, though, that’s certain. So far as I can tell, Follansbee still believes that Stone injected the serum given him for that purpose, and that Crawford is doomed. I was skating on thin ice this afternoon in my interview with the fellow. I didn’t want him to know that I had thwarted him, but I looked for him to guess it. “He ought to have realized at once that, after I had heard his conversation with Stone, I wouldn’t have stood by and allowed the latter to make the injection, knowing as I do what it would have meant. Evidently, however, he thinks I didn’t interfere. He has Stone’s word for it, of course, that the hypodermic was used as directed.” “That must be it,” agreed Patsy. “You were[201] speaking of Follansbee’s attitude toward Stone, though, and the urgent need of interference.” “Exactly. I was going to say that since the rascal apparently thinks the injection was made as planned, he’s convinced he has a strangle hold on Stone. He’s cleaned out the latter’s fortune, and can keep him cowed by drugs and threats. That may be what he plans to do for the present, in anticipation of Crawford’s death. Stone, as I told you, is named as the chief beneficiary in Crawford’s will, and if Follansbee could keep Stone alive and in his power until Crawford passes out, there would be another half a million or so to angle for.” “Great Scott! You mean that Follansbee intends to wait until Stone becomes Crawford’s legal heir, and then plans to swindle Stone out of Crawford’s fortune, as well as the poor devil’s own?” “It wouldn’t surprise me in the least; and when that was accomplished, there wouldn’t be any doubt about the next step. Stone would surely die in turn, but in such a way that no one could prove anything suspicious about his death.” Patsy whistled softly. “It’s a large order,” he remarked; “but that check for four hundred and fifty thousand shows that Follansbee is capable of thinking in big numbers. You’re probably right, therefore; but there’s something about it that beats me.” “What’s that?” “I can’t understand how Follansbee would dare to[202] go so far. It might be impossible to prove anything, but the very fact that Stone had been a patient of his, and that he had realized a huge sum through the association would look pretty bad on the face of it; wouldn’t it? It might not bring conviction, but it could hardly fail to be the means of severing Follansbee from his job as the head of St. Swithin’s, and of cutting off his practice. More than that, though, he’s aware that you know what he’s up to, and that you’re right after him. I can’t conceive of his going on with it under the circumstances.” Nick smiled grimly. “Follansbee is an extraordinary man,” he answered. “As you say, he already knows that I have a lot of dangerous evidence against him. That very thing, though, may drive him on to fresh crimes, on the theory that he might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb. If he thinks Crawford is doomed—as he evidently does—another life is of no consequence. I suspect that he really counts on getting rid of me. He implied as much this afternoon. If he tries that, though, he’ll have his hands full, shrewd as he is.” Nick got up suddenly. “Enough of this,” he said. “We might keep on theorizing all night, but I prefer action.” “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to try to sound Stone, if possible, and that’s where you’ll come in.” He nodded to his assistant. “I’m going to make use of that nice little introduction you prepared for me at Miss Worth’s,” he added significantly. [203] Patsy was on his feet at once. “You don’t mean to say——” he began. Nick smiled. “Precisely,” he replied. “I’m going to occupy that bed next to Stone. I’ll be your convalescent friend.” <hr class="chap" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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