“It was Annie O'Neil whom you followed last night, Patsy,” said Nick. “Who was the men?”
“John Gilder,” gasped the terrified girl.
“And you played ghost?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But how about my shooting?” asked Patsy. “How does Annie O'Neil happen to be alive?”
“Read that from Chick,” said Nick, producing a paper. “He's made some discoveries in the colonel's house to-day while we were all away.
“He's found the ghost. It seems that this girl was inside of a hollow dummy.
“She stood over a trap door. Just as soon as she had shown her face, she dropped the veil, and went through the trap.”
“The dummy still continued to stand there, and you shot at it. Two of your bullets flattened on its steel braces. The rest went through.
“John Gilder flashed the light. When he turned it off, the dummy was hauled down through the trap, and hidden in a place that neither you nor I found, Patsy.”
Colonel Richmond seemed to be in a trance.
“But the mysterious force,” he said, at last. “The injury to yourself and your assistant. How do you explain that?”
“It was done by John Gilder swinging a sand-bag on a string at the end of a pole which he poked through one of those panels.
“It couldn't be seen in that dim light, and it made a fearful weapon. It's a wonder that he didn't knock our heads off.”
“I thought that I heard something whiz,” muttered Patsy.
“And yet I heard her voice this morning,” said the colonel. “She said 'consent.'“
“No, she didn't; I said it,” rejoined Nick. “I'm something of a ventriloquist.”
“How was the affair managed at the safe deposit vault?” asked the colonel, after a pause.
“Why, Horace took the clasp out of the box and put it into your pocket. You really saw it, only he made you think afterward that you didn't.
“After I had searched him he picked your pocket and got the clasp. Then he wrapped it in paper.
“I picked his pocket to make matters even, and substituted my knife similarly wrapped up.
“When we got to this house he gave the knife to Annie O'Neil, who put it on Miss Stevens' pillow when she went upstairs to call Mrs. Stevens.”
“You have not explained the robberies at my house,” said Colonel Richmond.
“I'll do that over there. Is the rest of it clear? Has anybody a question to ask?”
Nobody spoke.
“Annie O'Neil,” said Nick, “I'll leave here in Patsy's charge. Horace Richmond, come with us.”
Horace looked ugly for a moment, and then he calmed down and sullenly complied with Nick's order.
Judge Lorrimer begged to be of the party in order to see the explanation of the mysterious robberies of which he had heard.
Two hours later they all stood in Mrs. Pond's room.
“The essential part of this matter,” said Nick, “was this door which appeared to open and close of itself.
“I saw that at a glance, and made a secret investigation. It is done by electricity.
“There's a magnet in the casing which is powerful enough to swing the door to, after which the same magnet pushes this little bolt—which looks like an ordinary screw—into position, and that holds the door, but not very steadily.
“You may say that this should have given me the criminal at once, but it didn't.
“You see, this electro-magnet works whenever a current is turned into the wires. Horace was clever enough to have the wires lead all over the house.
“A connection with the electric light wires, furnishing the current, can be made in almost every room in the house.
“Of course, I suspected Horace at once, because his room was directly overhead. In fact, the two are connected, as you see, by a ventilator in the form of a pipe with a grated opening in each room.
“The grating here, you see, is open.”
“But, bless me,” exclaimed Judge Lorrimer, “no thief could come through such a place. Why, it isn't six inches square.”
“Step in here a minute and see,” said Nick, and then he called out:
“All ready, Chick!”
The whole party had by this time gone into Mrs. Pond's sitting-room.
Nick said hush, and pointed to the ventilator. Most of the party could see it through the door.
Instantly there appeared a mass of green feathers, and then Horace Richmond's parrot fluttered noiselessly down into the room.
For a minute or two it ran around the floor. Then it flew up on to the dressing-table, seized a small gold bar pin in its beak, and flew back into the ventilator pipe.
“A nice trick,” said the detective. “I believe it took you some time to teach the bird that.”
“About a year,” growled Horace. “The bird was well trained before.”
“Is it all clear?” said Nick.
“Perfectly,” said the colonel. “But how did you get at it?”
“Simply enough. There was only one way into this room when those robberies were committed, and the parrot was the only living thing in the house that was small enough to go through that pipe and intelligent enough to do the trick.
“You see, Horace trained the bird to pick up bright objects, and especially articles of the color of gold, and to go up and down that pipe.
“Then he schemed to have your daughter come here. The rest was easy. He waited till she was in the farther room, and then closed the door between by the electrical device.
“Immediately he sent down the parrot. The bird was so well trained that he required only a minute or two to secure something.
“Of course, it was not always something of value. There were probably a dozen failures where the bird brought back nothing or some useless object that glittered.
“I suspected the bird, and so put Chick on that lay. As you see, he has got the creature to work very well.
“Now, colonel, what more can I do for you? What shall be done with the prisoners?”
“Nothing; I will not prosecute.”
“I guess we can hush it up, if you say so,” responded Nick. “By the way, there's one thing that I want to explain. I mean the strange appearance of that diamond pin in the box on the occasion of Mrs. Stevens' first visit.
“It was not the real pin, but a duplicate which had been prepared in advance. Horace had put up that game as a finishing touch for his uncle.
“Mrs. Pond had forced Horace to go for me; but he wouldn't be scared out. He played the game right under my nose.
“Annie O'Neil had the duplicate pin. She opened that box while Mrs. Stevens was calling to her daughter, as she testified, and put the duplicate into it. Then she wrapped it up just as before.”
“So I won't have to give up the jewels,” said Mrs. Pond.
“I am afraid you will,” said Nick; “the queerest part of the story is to come.
“Chick has found a later will by Miss Lavina Richmond. It is undoubtedly genuine.
“And where do you suppose it was found? The strangest of all places—in Horace Richmond's room.”
“She died there,” responded the colonel. “She must have hidden the will during her last illness.”
“It is strange to think of Horace Richmond struggling with that parrot, and putting up his elaborate schemes, while the document which would have given him all he wanted was hidden in his own room.”
Horace Richmond's face at that moment was an amusing spectacle.
So was Mrs. Pond's.
“Never mind, daughter,” said the colonel. “It is better so. I will make good the loss to you.”
And so ends Nick Carter's ghost story in a most natural manner.
Nobody was ever punished for the affair. Even the gang of mediums and heelers whom Nick had rounded up were released after their night in jail, because, on sober second thought, their dupes were ashamed to complain against them.
THE END.
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Nicholas Carter
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Nick Carter's Ghost Story Page 7