It's not safe to
keep him here until we have landed his running mate."
"But--"
"Don't stop for buts!" cried Kilgore, fiercely. "Go see if you can sight
Chick Carter. If he is still in the carriage, we are all right up to
now. In six or eight minutes go down there and give him to understand
that his interpreter wants him to come in here. Before you reach this
room with him, we three will be back to help you turn him down. Do you
understand?"
"Sure!" cried Venner, thrusting his weapon back in his pocket. "He
cannot suspect that we have recognized Nick, and he'll come in, all
right."
"Go, then! We'll be back here in six minutes."
Venner hastened to one of the front windows of the house and peered out
toward the street. At that moment a flash of lightning, followed by the
nearer roll of thunder, dispelled for an instant the intense gloom of
the night.
A growl of profound satisfaction broke from Venner while he gazed, and
he muttered exultingly:
"By Heaven! we're all right! He's waiting in the carriage, and Dalton is
still on the box!"
Nick was being pushed out of a back door of the house, meantime, and
then across the lawn and through the dark stable.
The ruffians who were hurrying him away did not stop there, however.
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