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Stolen Name

[37] <h2>CHAPTER IV. THROWING THE GAUNTLET.</h2> “The Birches,” one of the summer residences of Theodore Remsen, multimillionaire, financier, Wall Street wizard, and one of the recognized powers in the moneyed world, stood, and still stands, a prominent landmark at the location already described. It stands upon a high bluff overlooking the Hudson, and is approached from the main highway by a winding, macadamized road, which, from the lodge gate to the mansion, is more than a mile in length, and shaded on either side by a double row of white birches; hence its name. The lawn, directly in front of the house, is laid out in tennis courts, and there Nick Carter and Chick discovered nearly all the guests of the house assembled, when they drove beneath the porte-cochère at four o’clock that Monday afternoon. Nancy Nightingale had evidently been watching for their arrival, for as Nick stepped down from the car and gave Danny a few directions, he saw her approaching. He went forward to meet her, followed by Chick. As the detective moved toward her he cast his eyes rapidly over the assembled people—there was a score[38] of them, all told—and thought he saw Jimmy Duryea among them, engaged in an animated conversation with a group of which he appeared to be the centre. But the man’s back was turned, and Nick could not be certain. Nan, in an outing gown and coat of white flannel, with her black hair and sparkling eyes, looked more beautiful than ever as she approached the two detectives, and her smile of greeting was warmth itself. She conducted them directly toward the place where Mrs. Remsen was seated, and presented them. She added, after she had done so: “I told Mrs. Remsen that I had invited you to stop here to call upon us, and now she insists that you shall join our party for as long a time as you can remain.” After that, with Nan on his arm, Nick passed from group to group on the lawn, acknowledging introductions here and there as he went along. Chick remained with the group that had formed around the hostess. Presently Nick and his companion approached that particular group of which the man who called himself Ledger Dinwiddie, and whom Nan believed to be Jimmy Duryea, formed one part. Nan purposely left the introduction to him, for the last of that particular group; and then she said: “Mr. Dinwiddie, this is an old friend of mine—Mr.[39] Carter;” and Duryea turned about lazily, as if he had not noticed the arrival of a stranger till that moment. “Glad to know you, Mr. Carter,” he said imperturbably, and with just the faintest trace of a smile on his handsome features; and then he turned back again to the companion with whom he had been talking, and who happened to be the daughter of the house, Miss Lenore Remsen, who was not more than two years younger than her beautiful stepmother. There was not the slightest trace of recognition in the eyes of Jimmy Duryea when he acknowledged that introduction, although he must have known Nick Carter at once—and he could not have prepared for the sudden appearance of the detective there, unless he had guessed that Nan might communicate with the detective while she was in the city. Nick was equally reticent. It was no part of his present purpose to force matters; at least he did not intend to do so until the proper moment should arrive; but he did desire to get the gentleman cracksman into conversation, to see how far the assurance of the man would carry him. Presently he found an opportunity. It was when Duryea turned to make some general remark to those near him, and Nick chose to reply directly to it. “I quite agree with you, Mr. Dinwiddie,” he said.[40] “Stolen jewels are difficult things to trace. That is the subject you were discussing, I believe?” “Yes,” said Nan, before Duryea could reply. “A most remarkable thing happened here, during the night of last Thursday. A necklace, and other jewels, disappeared most mysteriously from the rooms of the owners. But—shhh—we have all agreed to keep very still about it, for the present.” Duryea laughed softly. “Perhaps, Miss Nightingale,” he said, “this gentleman will be able to make some valuable suggestions in regard to those missing jewels. He has a namesake in New York who is said to be one of the smartest of living detectives. Isn’t that so, Carter? Eh?” “Quite so,” replied Nick, looking him directly in the eye. “Only the gentleman to whom you refer is not a namesake. I happen to be the person mentioned myself.” Duryea’s brows went upward in well-feigned surprise; a chorus of exclamations arose from every side; Nan bit her lips, for she had not intended that Nick should announce himself quite in that manner. Lenore Remsen turned at once to the detective, and exclaimed: “Really, Mr. Carter, are you the detective?” “Yes, Miss Remsen, I really am.” [41] “Oh, I am so glad. Then you can assist us to recover our jewels.” “I can try, if it is your wish that I should do so,” replied Nick calmly. “Were you a victim of the robberies, Miss Remsen?” “Yes, indeed. It was my diamond necklace that was the most valuable thing taken. I must admit that I was very careless about it that night. Instead of putting it away, as usual, I merely dropped it into my jewel box. In the morning it was gone. Don’t you think, Mr. Carter, that it is remarkable how a burglar could get into the house, and go through the rooms as that one did, without leaving a trace of any sort behind him?” “It does seem so; yes.” “There wasn’t a trace. Not one; anywhere.” “Was no one in the house suspected?” asked Nick quietly. “No one in the——Oh, you mean one of the servants, of course. No; really. The staff of servants that we have in this house are, all of them, old retainers; every one of them has been a long time with us. You know this is the one place which we really call home. We always speak of ‘coming home,’ when we come here. Oh, no, indeed, we could not suspect one of the servants.” “What is your opinion on the subject, Mr. Dinwiddie?”[42] asked the detective, turning fairly toward Duryea. The latter smiled, showing his white and even teeth; he twirled his mustache for a moment before he replied, and when he did so it was with deliberation. “Really,” he said, “you know I am not an authority, Mr. Carter—such as yourself, for example. Still—er—I think I have an opinion, nevertheless. We are all apt to form opinions in such cases, don’t you think, Mr. Carter?” “Yes. What is yours? You interest me.” “Do I? Really! You confess yourself to be the great and only Nick Carter, and then do me the honor to care for my opinion!” “In the hope that it might prove to be an expert one—yes,” replied the detective. “Expert? Oh, dear, no; not at all expert. Just an opinion.” “Well, what is it?” “I shall shock all the ladies present—and some who are not immediately present in this group—when I mention it.” “Nevertheless——” “Oh, nevertheless, I shall not hesitate—even at the risk of giving offense. I should venture it as my opinion that the thief in this instance is a woman, whether[43] she happens to be a servant—or one of the guests. There! Have I shocked all of you?” He laughed easily when he asked the question, as if to take away the sting of it, and he turned his speaking eyes from one to another of the group until he had gone the rounds—and, somehow, he managed to create the impression that he was merely indulging in a joke at their expense. But there was an uneasy laugh around him, nevertheless. Lenore Remsen started to her feet, and exclaimed: “I think that was horrid of you, Ledger! Horrid! The idea of saying such a thing! We shall all be looking askance at each other, from now on. What do you think about it, Miss Nightingale?” “I should sooner incline to the opinion that the thief was a man, and a guest,” was the deliberate reply; and she added, not without intent, for she was angry, seeing exactly what Duryea had intended to convey to her: “One of the lately arrived guests, at that.” Lenore clapped her hands. “That is where you get it back, Ledger,” she exclaimed. “But, really, that was horrid of you, to say such a thing.” “Who are the lately arrived guests, Miss Nightingale?”[44] asked the detective, without turning his head; and she replied, without hesitation: “Mr. Dinwiddie is himself the most lately arrived one.” Duryea laughed aloud. “Good!” he said. “That is right, too. I arrived that very evening. Now, I wonder if it could have been me? I used to walk in my sleep when I was a child, although I don’t remember that I had the habit of purloining necklaces when I did so. But, then, one never can tell.” “Indeed one cannot,” retorted Nan. And then, assuming the air of one who was joking, she added: “I should advise a close inspection into your past record, Mr. Dinwiddie, if it is true that you formerly were in the habit of prowling about houses in the night.” “Gladly!” he exclaimed, joining in the general laugh that followed. “Will you give us the benefit of searching yours, also, Miss Nightingale?” A slow flush stole into the cheeks and brow of Nan Nightingale, but she was equal to the occasion. She replied: “It will not be necessary that you should search. Fortunately there is one who has known me many years. Mr. Carter can supply all particulars that may be required.” “I am afraid,” said Duryea, “that what was intended[45] as a joke all around has taken a serious turn. Let us drop it before we begin to indulge in personalities. Nevertheless, Miss Nightingale, it is well to have a person so renowned as Nick Carter to vouch for one. I only wish that he could perform the same service for me.” “Perhaps, Mr. Dinwiddie, I might be able to do that, also,” replied Nick quietly. “It is my profession to know something about a great many people who do not suppose that I know them at all. However, as you say, the conversation is taking too serious a turn. I will propose a game of tennis with you, Mr. Dinwiddie; what do you say?” “Gladly. Come along. Singles?” “Yes. Singles. There is a vacant court.” “All right. You’re on. But I warn you, Mr. Carter, I am considered an expert.” “So much the better. I think I just suggested that about you in quite another line, did I not?” <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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