A moment later Venner peered from the distant window—­and was satisfied with what he saw.

Five minutes later he came striding down the walk and approached the carriage.  Without a word to the driver, whom he supposed to be Dalton, he opened the carriage door and laid his hand on Chick’s arm, at the same time pointing toward the house.

Chick signified that he understood, and held out both hands, as if he wished to be helped to the sidewalk.

Venner promptly raised both of his—­only to suddenly hear a quick, metallic snap, and feel links of cold steel confining his wrists.  Their icy chill went through him like a knife, and he reeled as if stricken a blow.

“Good God!” he gasped, hoarsely.  “What’s this?”

Chick and Patsy were already beside him.

“This,” said Chick, sternly, “is your wind-up!”

“My—­”

“Stop!  Not a loud word, Mr. Venner, or worse will be yours!  Now tell me in whispers—­where is Nick Carter?”

The sight of a revolver thrust under his nose had a potent effect upon the dismayed man, yet even while he saw that he was cornered, he seized upon the hope that Kilgore and the gang might discover and release him.

“Find him yourself, if you want him!” he hissed through his teeth, with an ugly frown.  “I’m cursed if I’ll inform you!”

Chick did not delay for arguments or persuasion.  With Patsy’s help he speedily put Venner in the same helpless condition in which he had left Dalton, stretched upon the ground, within a rod of one another.

Then he threw off his disguise, and shifted his revolvers to his side pockets.

“Now for yonder house, Patsy, and to see what the remainder of this gang are at,” said he.  “Come with me, and have your guns ready.”

“I’m with you,” cried Patsy, coolly.  “Guns and all.”

A dash up the gravel walk brought them to the front door, which Venner had left partly open.

There they paused and listened.

Not a sound came from within the house; but overhead the tempest now was breaking, with frequent crashing peals of thunder, and flashes of lightning that illumined all the landscape.  Rain, too, now began pelting down on the veranda roof.

“We’ll steal in and see what we can find,” whispered Chick, drawing one of his revolvers.

“Go it, then.”

He led the way, and Patsy followed.  The silence in the house mystified them at first.  It appeared to have been entirely deserted.

When they reached the door of the dining room, however, Chick discovered on the floor the disguise which Nick had discarded.

“I have it, Patsy,” he cried, softly.  “They have nailed Nick, just as he expected, and have taken him somewhere to confine him.”

“Perhaps in the cellar,” suggested Patsy.

“I hardly think so, yet we’ll have a look.”

Moving as quietly as shadows, they entered the kitchen and easily located the cellar door.  It was closed and locked, with the key remaining.