Chick looked hurt for a minute, and then he caught a gleam in Nick’s eye.

“I begin to understand you,” said he.

“Your plan,” Nick went on, “is to circulate among the young men who whisper their love in the paths of that particular region.  Find who was there on Monday night.  It is not easy, but you can do it.”

“I will get about it at once,” said Chick.

After this conversation, Nick went to see Lawrence Deever.

“Poor Pat’s body is in the house,” said he, meeting Nick at the door; “but I have kept my promise to you.”

“Nobody knows of it, then?”

“Not from me or any of my friends.”

“That is as it should be.”

“I begin to believe,” said Deever, “your idea is to spring this thing on old Jarvis complete.  Make the case iron-clad; tie him up double and twisted; and then let it come out in the papers.”

His eyes shone with malignity.

“I was surprised,” he continued, “to see nothing about it in the papers this morning.  Why do you suppose that fellow skipped out of the garden?  Who was he, anyway?”

“Didn’t you know him?” said Nick, who always escaped a falsehood when he could.

“No, I didn’t.”

“He may have run away, because he couldn’t stand that horrible sight any longer, and he may have been ashamed to confess that his nerves were so weak.”

“Perhaps.  It doesn’t matter.  What is to be done to-day?”

“The only evidence I now require,” said Nick, “is something to show that your brother’s body was hidden in the vacant lot and brought into the garden by Jarvis.”

“Why do you need that?  But never mind; I will see what can be done.”

They separated then, and until evening Nick saw neither Deever nor Chick.

But about six o’clock he met Chick by appointment in Deever’s house.  Deever himself was not present.

Chick was accompanied by a young man and a pretty young woman.

He presented them as Margaret Allen and Henry Prescott.  Both lived on One Hundred and Thirty-fifth street, Prescott in a boarding-house and Margaret with her father.

By the secret sign Chick communicated his belief—­founded, of course, upon investigations which he had made—­that Prescott and Miss Allen were present to give true testimony.

“These two witnesses,” said he, in conclusion, “will supply the only link in the chain which has been missing up to this time.”

CHAPTER VII.

The man with the sack.

“I will have your story first,” said Nick to Prescott.  “I will not subject Miss Allen to the annoyance of questioning, unless it is necessary.”

“We are engaged to be married,” said Prescott, beginning his story with evident embarrassment.

“And the course of true love does not run smooth,” said Nick, with a smile.