"What do you know of them, Detective Carter?"

"David Kilgore, the chief of the gang, is one of the shrewdest and most daring of knaves, a man of splendid education, polished manners and broad experience. He possesses nerves of steel, the cunning of a fox, and would not shrink even from murder, if his designs required it. Yet he invariably covers his tracks so cleverly, or so quickly vanishes when hard pressed, that thus far he has successfully eluded the police.

That's David Kilgore, sir."

"And what of his a.s.sociates?" inquired Venner. "I think you spoke of a trio."

"His confederates are scamps of the same sort, and nearly his equal in craft and daring," replied Nick. "Perry Dalton is one--the smooth, pock-marked rascal whom you, Mr. Garside, had the pleasure of meeting this morning. He is nicknamed Spotty Dalton, because of his slight disfigurement."

"And the other?"

"Is a man named Matthew Stall, more commonly called Matt Stall. He is a Western man, a graduate of a California university, and is an expert electrician. Oh, I know all about them," laughed Nick, "although this is the first time I have been up against them personally. I am rather glad to discover that they are here in New York."

"Why so, Detective Carter?" Venner carelessly inquired, with a subtle gleam in the depths of his dark eyes.

"Because I have long wanted to match my talents against those of Dave Kilgore and his rascally push," declared Nick, with grim austerity. "The last I knew of them they were in Amsterdam, Holland, where some of the finest work in diamond cutting is done, as you doubtless know."

"Indeed, yes."

"They probably had to jump that country for obvious reasons, and very likely the European continent," added Nick. "They have long avoided New York, and the fact that they are now here is significant of--well, well, we shall see! That's all, gentlemen!"

"But what do you intend doing about this case?" demanded Venner, as Nick abruptly rose to go.

"All that can be done, sir," the famous detective bluntly rejoined. "I accept the case, Mr. Venner, and will do my best with it. When I have anything to report, you shall hear from me."

"But--"

"There really is nothing more to be said, gentlemen, and the sooner I get to work the better," Nick gravely interposed.

"But will you advise me of any steps that you may take?" persisted Venner, briefly detaining him by the arm.

"Very probably," nodded Nick, though really he probably would do nothing of the kind. "And now good-day, gentlemen. If reporters call upon you, you may give them all of the facts, and state that Nick Carter is at work on the case. I want this Kilgore diamond gang to know at the outset that I am after them--and fully resolved to land them where they belong."

"Behind prison bars, eh?" inquired Venner, with an odd smile.

"Yes, sir! Behind prison bars!" declared Nick, forcibly. "Again, gentlemen, good-day. You will hear from me later."

Mr. Rufus Venner, with his partner at his elbow, stood in the office door and silently watched the two celebrated detectives as they strode quickly through the elegant store, from which they presently vanished into Fifth Avenue.

There was a smile of subtle cunning, combined with cruel and malicious determination, on Venner's dark face and he muttered under his breath, as the store door closed upon Nick's imposing figure:

"Hear from you later, eh? Very good. Very good, indeed, Mr. Detective Carter! Hear from you again--that is precisely what I want! Early and often, Detective Carter; early and often, if you please! It is precisely for what the little robbery of this April morning was invented!"

"But was it necessary--was it really necessary, Rufus?" whispered Garside, who alone had overheard, and whose paler face and tremulous figure betrayed fears which his swarthy senior partner would have scorned to feel. "This Carter is a most artful and discerning man. I am so afraid you have barked up the wrong tree. Was it necessary, really necessary, Rufus?"

Venner turned upon him with a half-smothered snarl of contempt.

"Bah! You'd be afraid of your own shadow, Garside, if left alone with it," he sneered, between his white, even teeth. "Necessary--of course it was necessary! Otherwise, I should not have adopted the ruse. We are about to attempt a big game--an infernally big game! When it matures, when it is finally launched, the very first concern that finds itself bitten will rush to Nick Carter for aid."

"There is no doubt of that, Rufus."

"Surely no doubt of it! He is the greatest detective in the country--and the greatest will be none too clever, nor too expensive, for those who find themselves duped by our unparalleled design."

"I should say so."

"What will be the result, Philip?--what will be the result?" added Venner, with a curious mingling of exultation and asperity. "If our victims appeal to Nick Carter for help--are we not also already in his good graces? Have we not insured his confidence in us by this little move of to-day? Will he not reveal himself and his suspicions to us, just as I have designed, and keep us posted about his every move, and so forewarned and forearmed? Of course he will--to be sure he will!"

"But he is such a crafty and daring--"

"Bah! Is he more crafty than Dave Kilgore?" demanded Venner, significantly. "Is he more daring than Spotty Dalton, or more determined than anyone of the Kilgore gang? Not by a long chalk, Philip, and I know of them of whom I speak. Ay, as much and more of them than does Detective Nick Carter."

"Perhaps you are right, Rufus," murmured Garside, nodding. "We certainly are about launching a tremendous, an utterly unparalleled, swindle. The like of it was never, never known. There should be millions in it. Yes, yes, Rufus, you are right. It was wise to preface our gigantic operations by getting well in touch with Nick Carter."

"To be sure, it was wise, Philip, or I should not have taken the trouble to do so," said Venner, with much less acrimony. "So be a man always, Philip, and never a flunky. You have played your part admirably this morning. Let it be played as well, Philip, even to the finish--even to the last ditch!"

Philip Garside's color had returned, and he smiled confidently and nodded in approval.

Plainly enough, this hushed yet emphatic intercourse between these two indicated one fact--that Detective Nick Carter was up against a far deeper game than he then imagined.

CHAPTER IV.

GETTING DOWN TO WORK.

"Well, Nick, old man, what have you made of it?"

The question came from Chick Carter, in his familiar and cheerful fashion, several hours after the interview held by the two detectives with Rufus Venner and his partner in their Fifth Avenue store.

It was now about six o'clock in the evening, and Chick had just returned from having a confidential talk with one of the stage hands of the theater in which the then famous attraction, the mammoth European and American vaudeville troupe, of which Senora Cervera was a star attraction, had for several months been playing to crowded houses.

Chick found Nick seated at the table in his library, with a powerful magnifying gla.s.s in his hand, while the table was strewn with the papers he that morning had brought from the office of Venner & Co.

Nick looked up with a laugh, and knocked the ashes from his cigar.

"Well, there's no doubt about it, Chick," he replied. "We are finally up against them."

"The Kilgore diamond gang?"

"Precisely."

"I'm glad of it, Nick, as you remarked this morning."

"Well, I've not changed my mind since then. So am I."

"We shall now find out whether they are as crafty and desperate as they have been painted."

"I guess there is no doubt about it, Chick."