It was dark out of doors that night, with only a few stars in the
clouded sky, and the wooded locality and neighboring streets were but
poorly lighted.
It was in a northern suburb of New York, a section not yet much
encroached upon by the spreading city, and the dwelling owned and
occupied by Rufus Venner was that in which three generations of his
family had lived and died.
It was a square, old house of brick, set fifty yards from the suburban
street, and was flanked in either direction by extensive, ill-kept
grounds, made damp and dark by the huge, old trees, which nearly covered
the estate.
Back of the house, and off to one side, was a large wooden stable, fast
running to ruin; while a rusty iron fence, falling to fragments in
places, skirted the dismal grounds in front.
Beyond the trees, far to the rear, could be seen the roof and chimneys
of an old, wooden mansion, fronting on another street, and having a very
similar environment. There, too, the house and grounds were running to
ruin and decay, both places being but crumbling monuments of former
opulence and grandeur.
It was upon this scene that Nick Carter and Chick arrived just before
midnight, having left their carriage at a remote corner, to await their
return.
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