without
doubt, to judge from his appearance--was pacing regularly up and down,
with the precision of a sentinel; and he carried a rifle in the hollow
of his arm, which, as soon as Handsome and Nick appeared, he raised and
pointed at them, while Nick could hear the click of the lock as he
raised the hammer.

Handsome threw up both hands, holding them high over his head, and Nick
did the same; and thereupon the gun was lowered, and, still with their
hands held high, the two men advanced.

There was not a word spoken; the sentinel resumed his pacing up and
down, as if there had been no interruption; and Nick's guide approached
the edge of the piazza, still with his hands raised.

One of the men who were seated there rose and stepped forward; then he
peered long and earnestly at the two men, and then he said:

"You may advance. Go inside."

And as they crossed the piazza, and stepped inside the house, the woman
of the group rose and followed them, closing the door behind her; and
Nick Carter wondered if Hobo Harry, the Beggar King, was a woman.

CHAPTER V.

NICK'S WONDERFUL STRENGTH.

When Nick Carter gazed upon the woman who stood before them, with her
hands clasped behind her, he thought that he had never seen another like
her. She could not by any stretch of the imagination have been called
beautiful; she was too masculine in her appearance for that--that is,
the expression of her face, her manner, and the position she assumed
were masculine; but the suggestion of it ended there.

She was as tall or taller than the detective, and her complexion was as
dark as the hue to which he had stained his own. Her eyes were large,
and round, and full, and fierce, and she held her head, with its crown
of dead-black hair, as if she were monarch of all she surveyed. And the
strangest part of it all was that she did not appear to be more than
twenty years old.

With a steady stare she took in every detail of Nick's appearance, from
the top of his head to the shoes he wore on his feet; and then she
turned slowly to Handsome.

"Whom have we here?" she demanded.

"Dago John, he calls himself," was the reply.

"The man you spoke of?"

"Yes."

"Who is so strong that he could throw you over the fire into the bushes,
and who did not harm you when he might have done so, after you had
struck at him with your fist?"

"The same."

She turned her attention to Nick then.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"Just what