A Woman at Bay: or, A Fiend in Skirts. Carter Nicholas

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had not long to wait after that. There was a lapse of perhaps a minute and a half, and then a dull, booming roar shook the building, and the burglars rushed forward.

      Now was the time when they were compelled to work rapidly, if ever.

      It was true that Nick had so muffled the sound of the explosion that it was hardly possible that the noise of it had roused anybody at all; but there was always a chance of somebody near at hand being wakeful or watchful.

      At any moment they might be interrupted – and no burglar likes to be interrupted. It always means a fight, in which somebody is likely to get killed, and burglars rarely do any killing unless they have to in order to escape.

      They rushed forward together; but now Nick purposely kept in the background. He had no idea of being taken himself if they should be interrupted; nor did he wish to give his companions an opportunity to kill any person who might interrupt them. It was all right from his standpoint to participate in the burglary, in order that he might ultimately catch all the thieves; but he did not wish to be a party to any fight that might come of it.

      But he was made to hold one of the bags while Handsome filled it from the inside of the safe.

      They pried open the inner compartments, and threw them indiscriminately upon the floor as soon as they were emptied; they jimmied open the steel boxes as readily as if they had been made of softest pine – and in twenty minutes after the explosion they were stealthily climbing the fence again, into the courthouse yard.

      And, so far as they could see, not a soul in the village had been awakened or alarmed.

      They returned to the shed, where they had left the automobile, by the same route they had covered in approaching the bank; the machine was backed out; they entered it, turned on the power, and sped away through the silent streets as they had come, with nobody the wiser for what they had done, the havoc they had wrought, and the wealth they had stolen.

      Down beside the road where they had made the change before, from the track of the railway to the highway, they paused long enough to secure the iron wheels, and here the change was made back to a railway machine. The car was lifted in sections to the tracks, and with everything adjusted they were soon flying down the shining rails at a frightful rate of speed, and in silence – for it seemed to be a rule among these men that there should be no talking.

      Mile after mile they covered in this way, and then the machine was slowed down, and came to a stop at the point where it had picked up Handsome and Nick at first, and here they got down, and, having taken out the plunder, stood beside the track until the machine had disappeared from view.

      "Now, Dago, help me with the swag," said Handsome; and together they picked it up, and once more started for the outlaws' retreat in the middle of the impassable swamp.

      When they were in the boat, and almost ready to land where Nick had thrown the man into the water, Handsome turned to him, and whispered:

      "You're all right, Dago. I'll tell Madge so, too!"

      CHAPTER VII.

      THE DETECTIVE'S PREDICAMENT

      When Nick Carter was shown a place to sleep that night – or, rather, that morning, for it was well toward daylight by the time Handsome and he returned to the outlaws' camp – he tumbled upon the bunk that was shown him, and he lost no time in doing so; nor did he open his eyes again until he felt a hand shaking him lustily, and a voice crying out to him:

      "Wake up, Dago! You're wanted!"

      He sprang up instantly; and, because he had laid himself down with nearly all his clothing still upon his person, he was not long in making himself ready. To have insulted the profession he had adopted by washing his face was not to be thought of.

      "Gee! But I'm hungry!" he said to Handsome, who was standing near, waiting for him.

      "Madge will give you something to eat. She is at her breakfast now," was the whispered reply. "She wants you."

      "Then," said Nick, "if I am going into the presence of a lady, and am expected to eat with her, I'll have to wash my face and hands. Show me where."

      Handsome laughed.

      "I do it myself once in a while," he said. "Come with me."

      And he led Nick to a place along a path through the swamp where he succeeded in giving himself a good wash – for Nick had the satisfaction of knowing that the stain he had used was of such a quality that it would defy water. Alcohol alone would remove it.

      They found Madge on the doorstep, awaiting them; but Handsome paused at the edge of the clearing, and muttered:

      "I leave you here, Dago. I'm not in this. You're to have this interview alone."

      "All right," replied the detective, and was about to move on, when Handsome detained him by a gesture.

      "Put in a good word for me, Dago, if you get the chance," he whispered. "I have already said many a good one for you – and I made it as easy for you as I could all around."

      "All right," said Nick again.

      "And one more word, Dago. I forgot to tell you – "

      "What?"

      "Cremation Mike has got it in – "

      "Who?"

      "Cremation Mike – he worked in a crematory once – has got it in for you. He's the chap you chucked into the soup, you know. He sneaked away after you left last night, so I'm told, and he swore black and blue that he would have your life for that act. He will, too. He's sure bad medicine, that fellow. He's a bad member, too. I just thought I'd give you the pointer."

      Handsome turned away then, and Nick went on alone to the piazza, where Black Madge was awaiting him.

      He stopped just before he put his foot upon the veranda, and waited for her to make some sign; and she approached quite near to him, looking him straight in the eyes.

      "Good morning, Dago," she said, smiling.

      "Good morning, madam," he replied gravely.

      "You look quite like a gentleman this morning," she continued, laughing lightly. "Or, no, rather like a mountain bandit of Italy."

      "I could be either if I chose," he replied again, as gravely as he had spoken before.

      "I do not doubt it. I have been giving you considerable thought since I talked with you here last night. Come inside. You haven't had your breakfast, I suppose?"

      "No, madam."

      "Then you shall breakfast with me. I was about to eat mine when I remembered you, and sent for you."

      "Madam is most kind."

      She led the way into the house, where a table was spread with good things, well cooked, too, they appeared to be; and she pointed toward a chair at the opposite side of the table.

      "Sit there," she said. "I declare, we are quite domestic."

      "So it would appear, madam. I am afraid that you are doing me too much honor, for one who has been so short a time among you."

      "Bah! I am glad to have somebody who

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