Chapter XVIII: A Long Jump

“The electric drill ought to be working by this time.”

Chester Smith, the wealthy banker, Nick Carter, Chick and two detectives from the city force sat in a room not far from the chophouse.

It was nearly midnight, and they had been waiting there two hours.

“It beats anything I ever heard of,” said the banker. “When burglars took money from under my pillow, stole my revolver, cooked a breakfast in my kitchen, tapped my wine, and left an explanatory tag tied to my dog’s tail, I thought the limit of audacity had been reached; but this robbing a bank by machinery throws all that in the shade.”

The detectives laughed heartily at the banker’s account of the burglar’s visit to his residence.

Then Chick turned to his chief.

“I’d like to know,” he said, “how you got that make-up from the doctor, and how you knew what drug to use in order to help me back to life.”

“Why,” said Nick, “the fool of a doctor tried to catch me by giving me a dose of the same medicine he gave you. I got out of the room mighty quick and shut the door.”

“And he had to take the dose himself?”

“Exactly. Well, the ball wasn’t very strong, and when I went back into the room the fellow was still conscious, although lacking the power of motion.”

“That’s the way I felt at first.”

“He motioned for me to take a bottle out of his pocket, and give him some of its contents. I did so, and he was soon on his feet. So you see I had the remedy right in my own hands. As for the doctor’s rig, I made him give that up at the police station.”

“It was a perfect fit,” laughed Chick. “How Nixon started when you threw it off.”

“You were conscious at that time?”

“Of course. I began to recover the instant you gave me the antidote, but I didn’t want those fellows to catch on. I guess Nixon had an idea that I was as good as dead. When I sprang from the bed and got him by the neck he acted as if he had seen a ghost.”

“You saved my life there,” said Nick. “I couldn’t have fought another round.”

One of the detectives who stood by the window now turned toward the little group.

“It’s time to go,” he said. “The lights are out in the chophouse and the drill must be going.”

“They are two hours late now,” said Nick, “but they may be waiting for Nixon and the two doctors.”

“They’ll have to wait a long time,” said Chick.

The two detectives, Nick and Chick, now left the room and walked down to the chophouse, where they stopped.

The grinding of the electric drill could very plainly be heard.

The city detectives went to the front door of the restaurant, while Nick and his assistant crept down the area in front.

As they expected, the door in the double partition was securely fastened on both sides.

They waited a few moments for the city officers to make their presence known, but the work on the other side of the double wall went on as if there were no officers within a thousand miles.

“Stay here and guard this door,” said Nick, “and I’ll go around and see what’s the matter.”

The detective found the door of the chophouse open, and understood that the city officers were on the inside.

He entered and walked along through the dark room until he came to the door leading to the basement.

There he was met by a quick, sharp challenge.

“Who’s there?”

The detective hesitated an instant, and then answered:

“Nixon.”

His answer was followed by a sharp whistle, and then he heard a rush of feet and the sound of excited voices in the basement.

In an instant the detective realized what had happened.

The city officers had been overpowered by the burglars.

The arrest of Nixon had in some way become known.

At this second invasion of the place the burglars were quitting their work.

Nick knew that if he effected the capture of the gang at all he must act at once, without waiting for assistance.

With a weapon in each hand, he sprang toward the stairs.

The guard there fired one warning shot and retreated to the cellar.

In a moment Nick had confronted the burglars.

“Surrender!” he shouted. “I have a dozen officers at my back.”

His only answer was several pistol shots, but the bullets flew wide of their mark.

Then the outlaws rushed upon the detective.

Only one cowardly rascal turned to the door in the double wall to make his escape.

Busy as he was with the men about him, Nick could not help smiling when he saw the fellow unfastening the door.

He knew what would happen when he got it open.

Nick was now hard pressed, for the burglars were fighting for dear liberty.

He was in a fair way to get the worst of the encounter when the man at the door succeeded in getting it open, Chick having unfastened it from the other side.

As the burglar stepped into the opening he met a hard, white hand which sent him back into the rear room.

Then Chick sprang through the doorway with a yell, and began striking right and left.

Seeing a man creeping up behind Nick with a knife in his hand, Chick drew his revolver and shot the fellow through the heart.

This ended the battle.

The burglars had no means of knowing how many more officers there were in the front cellar, and they did not like the shooting.

So they threw up their arms and surrendered.

Geary and Parks were the first men handcuffed.

Gilmore was nowhere in sight.

“Well, you’ve got me at last,” snarled Parks.

“Yes, and I could have had you much earlier,” retorted Nick, “but when I took up your trail after you escaped on the way to Sing Sing, I knew you would lead me to some other villains, and I thought I might as well bag them too. Now, where is Gilmore?”

“He went over the roof, and I hope you’ll catch him.”

Nick, leaving Chick to guard the prisoners, dashed through the chophouse and up the stairs to the roof.

It was very dark, and at first he could see nothing.

Finally, however, he heard a noise on the roof of the next building, which was several feet lower than the roof of the one upon which the detective then stood.

He crept to the edge and looked down.

A figure stood on the wall at the rear, looking over an alley, at least twelve feet wide.

As the detective looked, the figure sprang into the air and landed on the other side.

It was a desperate act, but well carried out.

“Gilmore still has his old nerve,” thought Nick. “I wonder if I could jump that alley?”

He could, and he did, but when he stood in safety on the other side, Gilmore had disappeared.

Nick prowled around on the roof a long time, and was about to take his departure when a low cry of fright reached his ears.

He crept softly in the direction from which the sound had proceeded, and found a faint light shining through a skylight in the roof.

Looking down, he saw Gilmore standing by the side of a bed containing two young men.

He was evidently pleading with them for protection.

The burglar had been careful to replace the skylight after leaving the roof, and had drawn a table under the opening for the purpose.

Nick pushed the sash aside, and dropped into the room.

One of the young men saw him, but Nick pointed to the badge on his vest, and the fellow remained silent.

Before Gilmore knew that Nick was in the room, the detective was upon him.

There was a short, sharp struggle, and then the most daring house and bank breaker in the world lay handcuffed on the floor.

“What a bank burglar you would have made,” said Gilmore, as Nick sat down by his side for a moment’s rest.

“Think so?”

“What have you done with Nixon, the two doctors and the doorkeeper?” continued Gilmore.

“All locked up.”

“And Chick?”

“Downstairs, keeping cases on the gang.”

“Are they all under arrest?”

“Every one.”

“I suppose it was you that got Chick away?”

“Of course.”

“Again I say what a bank burglar you would have made.”

Gilmore was in a great rage when, after being taken to police headquarters, he learned that the whole gang had been captured by the two New York detectives.

“What became of the city officers?” he asked.

Geary grinned and pointed toward the old chophouse cellar.

“You’ll find them down there behind the bank vault,” he said.

And there the officers were found, nearly suffocated and foaming with rage.