A Woman at Bay: or, A Fiend in Skirts. Carter Nicholas

retreat in the middle of the impassable swamp.

      When they were in the boat, and almost ready to land where Nick had thrown the man into the water, Handsome turned to him, and whispered:

      "You're all right, Dago. I'll tell Madge so, too!"

      CHAPTER VII.

      THE DETECTIVE'S PREDICAMENT

      When Nick Carter was shown a place to sleep that night – or, rather, that morning, for it was well toward daylight by the time Handsome and he returned to the outlaws' camp – he tumbled upon the bunk that was shown him, and he lost no time in doing so; nor did he open his eyes again until he felt a hand shaking him lustily, and a voice crying out to him:

      "Wake up, Dago! You're wanted!"

      He sprang up instantly; and, because he had laid himself down with nearly all his clothing still upon his person, he was not long in making himself ready. To have insulted the profession he had adopted by washing his face was not to be thought of.

      "Gee! But I'm hungry!" he said to Handsome, who was standing near, waiting for him.

      "Madge will give you something to eat. She is at her breakfast now," was the whispered reply. "She wants you."

      "Then," said Nick, "if I am going into the presence of a lady, and am expected to eat with her, I'll have to wash my face and hands. Show me where."

      Handsome laughed.

      "I do it myself once in a while," he said. "Come with me."

      And he led Nick to a place along a path through the swamp where he succeeded in giving himself a good wash – for Nick had the satisfaction of knowing that the stain he had used was of such a quality that it would defy water. Alcohol alone would remove it.

      They found Madge on the doorstep, awaiting them; but Handsome paused at the edge of the clearing, and muttered:

      "I leave you here, Dago. I'm not in this. You're to have this interview alone."

      "All right," replied the detective, and was about to move on, when Handsome detained him by a gesture.

      "Put in a good word for me, Dago, if you get the chance," he whispered. "I have already said many a good one for you – and I made it as easy for you as I could all around."

      "All right," said Nick again.

      "And one more word, Dago. I forgot to tell you – "

      "What?"

      "Cremation Mike has got it in – "

      "Who?"

      "Cremation Mike – he worked in a crematory once – has got it in for you. He's the chap you chucked into the soup, you know. He sneaked away after you left last night, so I'm told, and he swore black and blue that he would have your life for that act. He will, too. He's sure bad medicine, that fellow. He's a bad member, too. I just thought I'd give you the pointer."

      Handsome turned away then, and Nick went on alone to the piazza, where Black Madge was awaiting him.

      He stopped just before he put his foot upon the veranda, and waited for her to make some sign; and she approached quite near to him, looking him straight in the eyes.

      "Good morning, Dago," she said, smiling.

      "Good morning, madam," he replied gravely.

      "You look quite like a gentleman this morning," she continued, laughing lightly. "Or, no, rather like a mountain bandit of Italy."

      "I could be either if I chose," he replied again, as gravely as he had spoken before.

      "I do not doubt it. I have been giving you considerable thought since I talked with you here last night. Come inside. You haven't had your breakfast, I suppose?"

      "No, madam."

      "Then you shall breakfast with me. I was about to eat mine when I remembered you, and sent for you."

      "Madam is most kind."

      She led the way into the house, where a table was spread with good things, well cooked, too, they appeared to be; and she pointed toward a chair at the opposite side of the table.

      "Sit there," she said. "I declare, we are quite domestic."

      "So it would appear, madam. I am afraid that you are doing me too much honor, for one who has been so short a time among you."

      "Bah! I am glad to have somebody who can talk decently near me. I tire of all these ragamuffins who are my men. Sometimes I kill one of them just for the mere fun of ridding myself of the vermin."

      "Madam is incautious, perhaps."

      "Why so?"

      "Some day one of them might take it into his head to kill madam."

      "Then somebody will have to be mighty quick about it. I'm not so easily killed as all that. Tell me – have you guessed who I am?"

      "I am not a good guesser, madam."

      "On the contrary, I should suppose you to be a good one – an exceptionally good one. Answer me: Have you guessed who I am?"

      "I might make a guess now, madam."

      "Oh, drop that madam. I don't want you to madam me all the time. Who do you suppose I am?"

      "If I am to make a guess, I should suppose that you are that distinguished and elusive person whom the outside world refers to as Hobo Harry."

      She laughed long and heartily, stirring her coffee vigorously the while.

      "Upon my word, you are a good one," she said, still with laughter in her voice. "Yes, I am that distinguished and elusive person. There is no doubt about that. I have spent a long time in bringing this organization to perfection, Dago. What do you think of it?"

      "I think it is a wonder."

      "Right you are, my man! It is a wonder. For example, what did you think of the operation that was performed last night?"