CHAPTER II.

THE INTERCEPTED LETTER.

Nick Carter read more carefully the telegram discussed in the hotel café, and which had so seriously aroused his suspicions.

“John Dalton, Shelby: Dust flying. S. D. on way. Ware eagle.

Martin.”

Belden watched the detective for a moment, then asked:

“What do you make of it? Dust flying seems to have no definite significance.”

“On the contrary, Belden, it is very significant to me,” said Nick. “You have heard it said, no doubt, that some men have dust on their clothes, others in them.”

“Dust—you mean money?”

“Exactly. There is money moving in some way, Belden, or about to be moved, of which felonious advantage is going to be taken. In other words, Belden, crooks are out to get the money.”

“Ah, I see!” Belden exclaimed, with eyes lighting. “You suspect that a crime is being framed up.”

“Precisely. I feel reasonably sure of it, in fact.”

“For any other reason?”

“Yes. Notice the last phrase in the message.”

“Ware eagle,” said Belden, reading it. “What the deuce can you make of that? Is one of them to wear an eagle, or some such insignia?”

“Not at all,” said Nick. “It’s a warning.”

“A warning?”

“Surely. Observe the spelling of ‘ware.’ The word does not refer to something to be worn, or it would be properly spelled. It is an abbreviation of the word beware. In reality, Belden, the phrase means: Beware eagle.”

“But how do you interpret that?” questioned Belden perplexedly. “Why is Dalton to beware of an eagle. I can’t see any sense to that.”

Nick laughed a bit grimly.

“I can,” he said tersely. “Crooks have favored me with all sorts of names and epithets. I am the eagle referred to, Belden, as sure as you’re a foot high.”

“Ah! I see the point.”

“This man, Martin, the sender of the message, has warned Dalton to beware of me,” Nick added. “It was that phrase that first led me to suspect the character of the entire message. It is generally known, now, that I am here in the service of the S. & O. Railway. This message convinces me, therefore, that another of the railway crimes is about to be attempted. It’s up to me to head it off, if possible, or at least to get the outlaws.”

“By Jove, you are a wonderful man, Mr. Carter,” said Belden, with much enthusiasm. “There is no denying that you probably have interpreted both messages correctly.”

“I think so,” said Nick modestly.

“But how can you head off the anticipated crime, or succeed in getting the outlaws?”

“That’s another part of the story,” Nick replied, smiling.

“One of them evidently is on the way here. Some one whose initials are S. D.,” added Belden, glancing at the message. “If you can identify him and find Gus Dewitt——”

“I shall certainly do the latter,” Nick interposed. “But you are wrong in regard to the other.”

“How so?”

“S. D. does not, in all probability, refer to a man.”

“A woman?”

“No.”

“To what, then?”

“To a special-delivery letter,” said Nick confidently.

“Oh, by thunder!” Belden exclaimed. “That must be right, too. You have nailed every point in both of these messages.”

“And the next step, Belden, is to nail the special-delivery letter,” Nick declared. “It presumably is coming from Philadelphia, and most likely sent by this man Martin. Do you know whether a mail from Philadelphia has arrived here since ten this morning?”

“There has not,” said Belden promptly. “I know all about the mails. One is due here from Philadelphia at two o’clock.”

“Very good. Let me use your telephone to talk with one of my assistants. I want him to meet me at the post office.”

“Certainly. Go as far as you like.”

“In the meantime, Belden, kindly make me a copy of each of these messages,” Nick added, turning to the telephone. “I then will be off to intercept that special-delivery letter. I may yet succeed, I think, in putting something over on Martin, Dalton, and Dewitt.”

Belden hastened to comply.

Nick called up the Shelby House, in the meantime, and quickly got in communication with Chick Carter and Patsy Garvan, his two assistants, both of whom he directed to meet him in disguise at the local post office. Then, having again cautioned Belden to absolute secrecy, Nick hastened away to keep the appointment.

It was half past one when he entered the post office, where he found Chick and Patsy awaiting him. Without delaying to explain the situation, he at once led the way to the private office of the postmaster, Adam Holden, who readily gave him an interview.

Nick then made himself known, introducing Chick and Patsy, after which he exhibited the two telegrams, confiding his suspicions to Holden and stating what he required of him.

“But that is decidedly against the law, Mr. Carter, the intercepting and opening of another person’s letter,” Holden forcibly objected. “I don’t see how I can consent to let you do so. It is a very serious offense.”

“Not nearly as serious as the circumstances,” Nick forcibly argued. “When dealing with offenders against the law, with a gang of criminals engaged in we know not what, nor have other means of learning, an unlawful step in order to foil them and serve the law may very properly be taken.”

“Possibly. I do not feel, nevertheless, that I can permit——”

“Now, Holden, you wait one moment,” Nick interrupted. “It is absolutely necessary that I shall see that letter. I will assume all of the responsibility.”

“But——”

“Or, if you prefer,” Nick cut in impressively, “I will send Chick to Judge Barclay, of the local court, and get from him a special order to open the letter. He is corporation counsel for the S. & O. Railway Company and will have a very keen appreciation of the circumstances. Bear in mind, too, that the letter is not to be held up permanently. It will be delayed only a very few minutes, and the recipient will be none the wiser. I can open and reseal the letter without his even suspecting it.”

“Very well,” Holden said reluctantly. “You get an order from the court, Mr. Carter, and I will yield to your wishes.”

“Attend to it, Chick,” said Nick, turning to his assistant. “State the circumstances to Judge Barclay and bring the order here as quickly as possible. You will have no trouble in getting it.”

“Surely not,” Chick agreed, rising to go. “He has absolutely confidence in your judgment. I’ll return within a quarter hour.”

“You have ample time,” put in Holden. “The mail will not be in for nearly half an hour.”

“Very good,” said Nick. “In the meantime, Patsy, you go to the Reddy House and see what you can learn about Gus Dewitt. You will probably find him there, for he must be expecting the special-delivery letter and should be waiting for it.”

“Sure thing, chief, if the game is what you suspect,” Patsy declared.

“Be off, then, and phone me here,” Nick directed. “Make sure you do nothing to arouse his suspicions.”

“Trust me for that.”

“Look up Dalton, also, and see what you can learn about him. Call me up in half an hour for further instructions.”

“I’ve got you, chief,” said Patsy, hastening to depart.

Nick waited patiently.

Postmaster Holden appeared nervous and uncertain. He was relieved in about fifteen minutes, however, by the return of Chick, bringing from the magistrate the order Nick had requested.

Ten minutes later a mail wagon rattled into the post-office yard, and Holden went to bring all of the special-delivery letters to his private office.

There proved to be only six of them, and the one referred to in the telegram was easily determined. It bore the Philadelphia postmark and was addressed to Gus Dewitt, at the Reddy House.

“How can you open and reseal it?” Holden questioned doubtfully, while the detective examined the letter.

“Very easily,” said Nick.

“So that it will not be detected?”

“Surely. A little steam will turn the trick, no wax having been applied to the flap of the envelope. Your radiator will serve us. We’ll find out in about two minutes what this letter contains.”

Nick arose while speaking and stepped to the radiator. He turned the key of the small air tube and opened the valve. A faint blowing and sputtering ensued, soon followed by the ejection of a slender stream of steam.

Nick adjusted it carefully, then held the back of the envelope in the thread of steam until the heat and moisture softened the paste on the flap, which he then opened without injury, removing the letter and laying the envelope aside to dry.

“Now, Chick, we’ll see what Martin has to say in this special delivery,” he remarked complacently, while unfolding the single sheet of paper so artfully taken from its cover.

Chick drew nearer to gaze at it.

The communication also was typewritten, on a sheet of perfectly plain paper. It read as follows:

“Dear Gus: The pay-roll package goes through to-night, Tuesday, on the Southern Limited. We’ll have the substitute down fine in ample time, and the other dead to rights. Be on hand to relieve us of the goods at the point agreed upon. Nothing doing until south of North Dayton. It looks like a walk-over. I will see you after turning the trick.

Martin.”

Nick Carter glanced through the letter, then read it aloud to his two companions. The significance of it could not be mistaken.

“By gracious!” Holden exclaimed. “You were right, Mr. Carter. It’s a job to rob the express car on the Southern Limited.”

“Nothing less,” said Nick. “I suspected something of the kind.”

“That train is due here from Philadelphia soon after midnight.”

“A fit hour for such a felonious job,” Nick declared. “But we must be equal to the needs of the hour. Not a word of this to others, Holden, under any circumstances.”

“Surely not. You can depend upon my discretion.”

“I will make a copy of this letter. You then may reseal it and have it delivered precisely as if it had not been opened.”

“I will do so, Mr. Carter.”

It took Nick only a few moments to make the copy. Holden had not finished resealing the letter, however, when the ringing of the telephone was the harbinger of a communication from Patsy.

“Hold that letter until after I have a talk with him,” Nick directed.

Patsy’s report was brief and to the point.

“John Dalton is not known here,” said he, speaking from a booth in the Reddy House. “Gus Dewitt arrived here two days ago. He has been here on other occasions for a day or two, but nothing definite is known about him. He now is in the hotel office and evidently is waiting for the special-delivery letter.”

“Anything more?” Nick inquired.

“That’s all to date,” returned Patsy. “I’ve got my eye on the man.”

“Keep it on him, Patsy, after he receives the letter,” Nick directed. “Shadow him, if possible, or find some way to trail him. Listen while I tell you what the letter contains. It may be of advantage to you.”

“Shoot! I’m all ears,” said Patsy.

Nick then repeated the letter verbatim and told Patsy of what his suspicions consisted, again directing him to make a special mark of Dewitt until otherwise instructed. Replacing the receiver, Nick then turned to the postmaster and said:

“Now, Holden, you may send that letter along. Take it from me, too, that Dalton will not be the wiser—until I snap a pair of bracelets on his wrists.”

“The sooner the better, Carter, in my opinion,” replied the other. “It could be done when the letter is delivered.”

“I know that, Holden, but that’s much too soon. It’s not going to be done until I can put bracelets on every crook engaged in this job,” Nick declared, with grim determination.

“I agree with you that that would be still better,” smiled Holden, turning to hasten out with the fateful letter—for such it proved to be.