"I know these
Carters, root and branch. They have now struck our trail, and they'll
stick to it like bloodhounds till they run us down--unless we get them!
It must be done, I say, and done promptly."
"Put them down and out?"
"Exactly. It's them--or us!"
"And why do you think, all of a sudden, Dave, that Nick Carter is so hot
on our heels?"
"I'll tell you why, Spotty."
And Mr. David Kilgore, chief of the notorious diamond gang bearing his
name, and one of the keenest and coolest criminals in or out of prison
walls, removed his pipe from his mouth and his heels from the edge of
the table, and drew forward in his chair to explain.
It was a curious place, that in which the speakers of the above were
seated, in the bright glare of an electric light.
It was inclosed with four solid stone walls, with not a window or
aperture through which a ray of light could be detected from outside.
Yet in one of the walls was a low, narrow door, also of stone, and so
cleverly constructed and fitted that, when swung into place in the wall,
it was comparatively beyond the detection of anybody ignorant of its
existence. This door then stood open, but the aperture through the wall
was heavily curtained.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143