CHAPTER XXIII.
THE STOLEN SILVER.
The next step was to ascertain if Lorton had been to any of the well-known “fences” the night before, and if he had, to learn what he had sold.
If he could learn absolutely that Lorton was in the city something would be gained. And if it should prove that the goods he had disposed of included the silverware that had been taken from Mr. Field’s house, then he would have a good case, and it would only remain to get together evidence. As it stood now he not only had to find evidence, but also to make that evidence point to somebody.
With this purpose in view, then, he turned his steps in the direction of Gorse’s place, patronized as extensively by crooks as any in the city.
This man carried on business in a peculiar way, but one that was well calculated to meet with success in his trade.
What had originally been a single store had been divided by a partition into two parts. In one of these half-stores there was carried on what might by courtesy be termed a jewelry business, as the window contained old watches of little or no value and a quantity of worthless trinkets. This business was run under the name of a tool of Gorse’s, who had his name over the door of the other half-store as “Retailer of Wines, Liquors and Fine Cigars.”
A man entering the liquor store might be supposed to be doing so simply to obtain a drink, while under his coat would be concealed the proceeds of some burglary that he was about to dispose of.
The “fence” proper was located at the rear of the jewelry part of the premises, a door at the back of the saloon communicating with it.
Nick Carter so thoroughly disguised himself that he could not by any possibility be recognized, and then sauntered into the saloon.
Gorse himself was behind the bar.
Nodding to him, Nick said:
“I want to see the proprietor. Is he in?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“The nature of your business.”
“It is important.”
“What might it be?”
“That is for him alone to know. From a description that was given me, I should judge that you were the man himself.”
“I ain’t.”
Nick Carter knew better than this. He was positive that this was Gorse, for he had seen him a number of times before, and he said:
“If you are Gorse, I’ve got something to say to you of the utmost importance. If you are not Gorse, then something will have to go by the board that you’ll be sorry for.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
And, turning around as though about to depart, he said:
“Good-day to you!”
Gorse, as he had expected, called to him to stop.
“Hold on a minute!”
Facing him, the detective said:
“Did you call me?”
“Yes.”
“What do you want?”
“I was going to say something.”
“What?”
“That, if your business is very important, Gorse might be found.”
“I told you before that it was important.”
“Who are you?”
“A friend.”
“Well, I am Gorse.”
“Are, eh? Well, that is just what I thought.”
“Now, then, what is your business?”
Nick Carter rejoined:
“It would be as well if we could have it a little private, instead of out here where we are likely to be interrupted by somebody coming in for a drink.”
“Good enough! I will call my bartender.”
This individual put in his appearance, after which Gorse said:
“Step into the back room.”
This was just what Nick wanted.
He desired to get into the room where the “loot” was examined and purchased, in the hopes that if what he was after had been purchased it would not yet have been removed from sight.
In this he was disappointed.
If Gorse had bought the stolen silver it had been taken to some other and less public place, as indeed was dictated by prudence to be the only proper course.
When they were both seated, Gorse said:
“Now, then, friend, I am ready to listen to what you have to tell me.”
The detective coughed and replied:
“There are conditions.”
“Conditions!”
“Yes.”
“I don’t take!”
“Don’t? That’s funny! I spoke plainly enough. There are certain conditions under which alone I can tell you a particular thing that may be of great consequence to you.”
“What are these conditions?”
“That you will truthfully answer me certain questions.”
Gorse’s teeth shut together with a snap, and he said:
“I don’t like the looks of this!”
“Why not?”
“If you have anything to tell me there can be no need of asking me any questions.”
“In that I know better than you do.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Let me tell you one thing!”
“Go ahead.”
“I will not answer a single question until I know who you are.”
“As you please about that.”
The detective’s coolness had the effect aimed at, which was to make the villain more desirous of hearing the communication the other had come to make. In addition to this, his curiosity was excited.
Biting his lip, the villain said:
“I mean it!”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ve got nothing to tell you.”
After a silence of several minutes’ duration, Gorse asked:
“Did you come here of your own accord?”
“No.”
“Ah! Who sent you?”
“That question I cannot answer until I know something of you?”
“In other words, I must answer your questions before you will answer mine?”
“That is it exactly.”
“You can at least tell me the circumstances under which you came here?”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“What are they?”
“They are simply these: A man who is a good friend of yours asked me if I would come and see you, and I said I would.”
“He wanted you to tell me something?”
“Yes.”
“But, under conditions?”
“Precisely.”
“Who is this friend?”
“One who has, I believe, warned you of danger before now.”
“Ha!”
The villain’s eyes glistened.
“Perhaps”—speaking in a slow tone—“he is connected with the police force?”
“It is possible.”
For some reason Gorse now appeared to be inspired with a confidence that had been lacking a few minutes before.
“What is it you were to ask me?”
“I want to know something about the customers you had last night.”
“What about them?”
“Who were they?”
“It would be necessary to show me that the danger was great before I would consent to give the boys away.”
“I don’t want you to give them away.”
“What do you want, then?”
“I want to know simply who was here last night.”
As Gorse did not seem likely to reply to the question, as thus put, Nick went at it in another way. He said:
“I’ll put it to you in this shape: Did you take in any silverware last night?”
Gorse gave the questioner a swift look of suspicion.
“What are you driving at?”
Calmly and in an offhand tone came the reply:
“As I have told you, it is optional with yourself whether or not you answer my questions.”
“Well, suppose that I admit having taken in some silverware?”
“Then the next question is: Who brought it?”
“That I won’t tell.”
The detective coolly said:
“In refusing to do which you make a grave mistake! Possibly you will tell me if it bears a certain mark?”
“A mark, you say?”
“Yes.”
The detective followed this answer by giving a description of the mark on Mr. Field’s silver.
Gorse promptly said:
“I never saw such silver as that!”
But, as Nick Carter was describing the mark, his face had worn a conscious look that did not escape the speaker’s keen eyes, and he said, mentally:
“The rascal is lying! He has seen that very silver if, indeed, it is not now in this very house.”
Aloud he said:
“Very well, then, you’re safe.”
“Safe?”
“Yes.”
“I say!”
“What is it?”
“You are talking to me in riddles.”
“I can’t help that. The circumstances under which I have come are peculiar. The person who sent me dared not come himself, nor send the customary messenger, and it would not do for it to appear that you had received warning of a certain thing since this information is in the possession of so few that, in case of any leak, it would not be hard to locate it.”
Gorse, it was plain to be seen, was not a little troubled by what had been said, although he said in a sneering way:
“All very nice, and told in about the style in which fortune tellers talk to their dupes, so that no matter what transpires the tale will cover.”
“Treat this so if you choose. As I have said, it is none of my affair. But, I know this, that freedom of speech on your part might save you some trouble.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Then I may as well go.”
“So you had, for you can’t work any game on me.”
“That’s all right. Before I go, just to show you that I am not playing on you, let me say that it is known about certain silver coming here. And, further, the man who brought it is tricking you.”
“What! De——How do you know that?”
Nick quietly smiled.
“De——” Gorse had begun to utter the name of Demas Lorton, but remembering himself, had cut it short.
Nick Carter had practically gained what he wished to know.
He was quick to think and plan, and in less than a minute after this admission he said:
“See here, Gorse!”
“What now?”
“Demas Lorton brought certain pieces of silver to you last night. They must be gotten rid of.”
“So?”
“Yes.”
“For what reason?”
“The best in the world! And, what is more!”
“Well?”
“The melting pot will not answer!”
Gorse gave a start of surprise.
At last he was thoroughly aroused.
“What do you mean?”
“The melting pot will not hide the traces of that particular lot of silver! It is all part of a game; the silver was prepared for the job!”
“You mean that it was alloyed in a certain way?”
“I do.”
“I can destroy that!”
“You cannot. The fact of its impossibility is the reason why I was sent here.”
“Do you mean that I am to infer that Lorton is playing a double game?”
“I have nothing more to say, unless you admit that Lorton did bring such silver here last night.”
“Very well, I admit it. What, then?”
“I am instructed to give you certain advice.”
“Which is?”
“That you send him back the silver so that he gets it at nine o’clock to-night.”
“Why that particular time?”
“You will see afterward.”
Gorse was silent a minute, and then said:
“I laid out good money on that stuff.”
“Hang on to it, then, if you wish!”
“I don’t want to do so at any risk.”
“Then send it back!”
“I will do so.”
“So that he will receive it at the time I mentioned?”
“Yes.”
“Very well, I will so report to the person who sent me.”
“Who was that?”
“He said you would know that!”
“I don’t, though.”
“But you will before long, even though I do not tell you, as I shall not.”
“How, then, will I know?”
“He said that he would arrange to see you some time after ten to-night.”
The detective took his leave at this juncture. Gorse did not now in any way doubt the man, although he could not understand the necessity for all this mystery. If a certain person connected with the police department, who had before now given him warning of approaching danger, wished to warn him again, why could he not have done it in a way as openly as before?
Nick Carter had played a shrewd game, based on a supposition that Gorse had a friend in the department, which he had thought to be the case since it had never been possible to secure evidence that had been positively known to have been in his possession.
Nick might have disclosed his identity and forced Gorse to restore the silver to him. But, for him to have taken this step would have resulted in a widespread alarm that would certainly reach the ears of Lorton and thus defeat the main object he had in view.
He believed he had arranged the matter a great deal better, and it could not but prove so if Gorse did as he said he would, and sent the silver back to Lorton at nine that night.
Nick now hurried away to headquarters and was closeted for some little time with the chief.
The men he asked for were placed at his disposal. Then he proceeded to his office, and made arrangements with his two assistants, Chick and Patsy, to accompany him on what all knew would be a dangerous errand.