' V I 'M. ill lap ill i i 20 CENTS mm I . ■■■ I > •o£.::> ' .." 3 r ■:::.: ' '' - ‘^4 r awwS®E WmMiM W$ & WSmfi&M J 1 $c$c? I ; ‘H,\ ^ -/> , , ' I LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS — — MASTERPIECES OF DETECTIVE LITERATURE ALL BOOKS COrVKIGHTED NEW MAGNET LIBRARY Issued Semimonthly Our efforts to till the enormous demand for scientific detective literature at a reasonable price have been unceasing for the past eight years. The stories in the NEW MAGNET L23RARY prove that we have succeeded splendidly in giving American readers the kind of mystery stories that is usually found between cloth covers at $1.50. Every lover of detective stories will be happy to have this line brought to his attention because it will place within his reach just the sort of literature that he has been seeking. ALL TIT L Bis ALWAYS IN PRINT TO THE PUBLIC These books are sold by news dealers every- where. If your dealer does not keep them, and will not get them for you, send direct to the publishers, in which case four cents must be added to the price per copy to cover postage. 900— On a Million-doilar Trail...., , .By Nicholas Carter 901— A Weird Treasure ;.,By Nicholas Carter 902— The Middle Link .... By Nicholas Carter 903— To ithe Ends of the Earth .By Nicholas Carter 904— When Honors Pall By Nicholas Carter 905— The Yellow Brand By Nicholas Carter 906— A New Serpent in Edea...., By Nicholas Carter 907— When Brave Mss Nicholas Carter , v . s HEW MAGNET LIBRARY 908 — A Test of Courage ‘.By Nicholas Carter 909— '— Where Peril Beckons By Nicholas Carter 910 — The Gargoni Girdle By Nicholas Carter 91 1 — Rascals & Co , .By Nicholas Carter 912 — Too Late to Talk....... By Nicholas Carter 91 3 — Satan’s Apt Pupil.... By Nicholas Carter 914 — The Girl Prisoner,. By Nicholas Carter 915— -The Danger of Folly By Nicholas Carter A 916 — One Shipwreck too Many By Nicholas Carter 917 — Scourged by Fear By Nicholas Carter 918 — The Red Plague By Nicholas Carter 919— Scoundrels Rampant By Nicholas Carter 920 — From Clew to Clew .By Nicholas Carter 921 — Wfien Rogues Con'spire. ..By Nicholas Carter 922 — Twelve in a Grave By Nicholas Carter 923 — The Great Opium Case .By Nicholas Carter 924 — A Conspiracy of Rumors. ........... .By Nicholas Carter^ 925 — A Klondike Claim By Nicholas Carter 926 — The Evil Formula By Nicholas Carter 927 — The Man of Many Faces. By Nicholas Carter 928 — The Great Enigma. .By Nicholas Carter 929 — The Burden of Proof By Nicholas Carter 930 — The Stolen Brain., By Nicholas Carter 931 — A Titled Counterfeiter .By Nicholas Carter 932 — The Magic Necklace... By Nicholas Carter 933— ’Round the World for a Quarter By Nicholas Carter 934— Over the Edge of the World By Nicholas Carter 935 — In the Grip of Fate By Nicholas Carter 936 — The Case of Many Clews. By Nicholas Carter 937 — The Sealed Door ' ...'. By Nicholas Carter 938 — Nicl$ Carter and the Green Goods Men. By Nicholas Carter §39 — The Man Without a Will.... ....By Nicholas Carter 940 — Tracked Across the Atlantic .By Nicholas Carter 941— A Clew from the Unknown By Nicholas Carter 942 — The Crime of a Countess By Nicholas Carter 943 — A Mixed Up Mess By Nicholas Carter 944 — The Great Money Order Swindle.. By Nicholas Carter 945 — The Adder’s Brood By Nicholas Carter 94 6 — A Wall Street Haul By Nicholas Carter 947 — For a Pawned Growl)* *By Nicholas Cartes / NEW MAGNET LIBRARY * 948 — Sealed Orders 949 — The Hate That Kills 950 — The American Marquis 951 — The Needy Nine 952 — Fighting Against Millions . . . 953 — Outlaws of the Blue 954 — The Old Detective’s Pupil... 955 — Found in the Jungle 956 — The Mysterious Mail Robbery 957 — Broken Bars 958 — A Fair Criminal 959 — Won by Magic 960 — The Piano Box Mystery 961 — The Man They Held Back . . . 962 — A Millionaire Partner 963 — A Pressing Peril 964 — An Australian. Klondyke 965 — The Sultan's Pearls 966 — The Double Shuffle Club ..... 967 — Paying the Price 968 — A Woman’s Hand 969 — A Network of Crime 970 — At Thompson’s Ranch 971 — The Crossed Needles 972 — The Diamond Mine Case 973— Blood Will Tell 974 — An Accidental Password 975 — The Crook’s Bauble 976 — Two Plus Two 977 — The Yellow Label 978 — The Clever Celestial 979 — The Amphitheater Plot 980 — Gideon Drexel's Millions .... 981 — Death in Life , 982 — A Stolen Identity 983 — Evidence by Telephone 984 — The Twelve Tin Boxes 985 — Clew Against Clew 986 — Lady Velvet 987 — Playing a Bold Game .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By" Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter . By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .•By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Carter .By Nicholas Cartel: NEW MAGNET LIBRAR\ 988- — A Dead Man’s Grip. . . . ... . . 1 ..... By Nicholas Carter 989 — Snarled Identities By Nicholas Carter 990 — A Deposit Vault Puzzle By" Nicholas Carter 991— The Crescent Brotherhood .......... .By Nicholas Carter 992 — The Stolen Pay Train. By Nicholas Carter 993 — The Sea Fox By Nicholas Carter 994 — Wanted by Two Clients......... By Nicholas Carter 995 — The Van Alstine Case ................ By Nicholas Carter 996— -Check No. 777 .................. .V. . . By Nicholas Carter 997 — Partners in Peril. ................... .By Nicholas Carter 998— Nick Carter’s Clever Protege. ........ By Nicholas Carter 999 — The Sign of the Crossed Knives. .... .By Nicholas Carter 1000 — 1 The Man Who Vanished. ........... By Nicholas Carter To be Published During May, 1919. 1001— A Battle for the Right. ............ .By Nicholas Carter 1002— A Game of Craft. By Nicholas Carter To be Published During June, 1919. 1003 — Nick Carter’s Retainer ............ .By Nicholas Carter 1004 — Caught in the Toils .By Nicholas Carter To be Published During July, 1919. 1005— A Broken Bond ..................... i By Nicholas Carter 1006— The Crime of the French Cafe. ...... .By Nicholas Carter To be Published During August, 1919. 1007 — The Man Who Stole Millions. . . .... .By Nicholas Carter 1008 — The Twelve Wise Men ............. By Nicholas Carter To be Published During September, 1919. 3009— Hidden Foes .By Nicholas Carter 1010 — A Gamblers’ Syndicate .By Nicholas Carter In order that there may be no confusion, we desire to say that the books listed above will be issued, during the respective months, in New York City and vicinity. They may not reach the readers, at a distance, promptly, on account of delays m transportation. Gideon Drexel’s i I f: ({,'/; f; Y J| if | noons; OR, A WILLING FOOL NICHOLAS CARTER Author of the celebrated stories of Nick Carter’s adventures, which are published exclusively in the New Magnet Library, con- ceded to be among the best detective tales ever written. STREET & SMITH CORPORATION " . PUBLISHERS 79-89 SEVENTH AVENUE NEW YORK CITY • - >**• \ Copyright, 1893-1899 By STREET & SMITH Gideon Drexel’s Millions All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, inchiding the Scandinavian, /£ 6c/ ^ 0 O ♦ S’/s , T IMPORTANT CASE, The telephone bell in Nick Carter’s residence startled the great detective out of a fit of musing, which prom- ised to carry him into an afternoon nap. He didn’t move from his restful position on the leather-covered * lounge in his library, but his eyes as well as ears were f wide open at once in anticipation. He heard It is wife leave her sitting room just over- head, and gd out into the hall to answer the call “Hello! jvhat is it? ..... Yes? . . . . . Who. . . .f. . Mr. Carter? ..... Oh! Very well! . . . j . When! ..... Yes. I’ll tell him. » txood-by. ” * “Who is it, dear?” called Nick, as he heard his wife “ring off.” 1 “The superintendent.” “What does he want?” “Wanted to know if you were at home.” “Well?” By this time Mrs. Carter had descended the stairs * ^ * and entered the library. “He’s corning right up here with another person, and requests that you don’t go put till they arrive.” “Humph f That probably means a postponement of your two Weeks’ jaunt to the Adirondacks to-morrow. I’m sorry, my deai0i^^is v ^.^ mVm rter Gets a Case. “So am I, for your sake, because you need rest. You are working too bard.’ 5 Nick smiled and raised himself to a sitting posture. “A detective never rests,” he said with a yawn. “I wonder what the chief has on the string now? Some- thing very important, I’m sure.” “Certainly it is, or he’d not call you into the case,” demurely I’emarked Mrs. Carter, with a proud glance at her handsome, stalwart young husband. Nick gave her another smile in reply and added: “It is of unusual importance — this new business. Superintendent Byrnes never brings a case to me unless there is some strong reason. Otherwise he sends for me, and I go to him.” . Half an hour later a carriage drew up in front of Nick’s residence, and from it alighted New York’s cele- brated Superintendent of Police, and a well-dressed, portly gentleman who had passed the meridian of life some years before. Both were quickly admitted, and shown at once into the presence of the American Vidoeq. Superintendent Byrnes, in his characteristic way, lost no time by conventionalities. “Nick, this is Mr. Gideon Drexel, who has important business with you. Mr. Drexel, this is Nicholas Car- ter, the best detective in the United States.” Mr. Drexel bowed and said : “He is young to be so successful.” “Young in years, but old as Methuselah in experi- ence,” responded the superintendent, while Nick bowed to the double compliment. Then he said : “If Mr. Drexel will be seated, we will come at once to the business in hand. What is the nature of the mse?” “An ab duct ion !’ 5 .. HI: Nick Carter Gets a Case: ^ jffr “Ah! Who is the victim?” “My daughter.” There were tears in the old gentleman’s eyes, and bis voice showed signs of unsteadiness as be made his reply. Nick walked over to a cabinet, poured some wine into a glass, and offered it to his guest. “Drink that. Mr. Drexel, and then remain as self- possessed as you can until I get through with my catechism. It is absolutely necessary that you should have a clear mind while you answer my questions.” Mr. Drexel drank the wine and said: “I will do my best at self control. But it is a great blow to me, sir — a great blow.” “We will try to remove your trouble as speedily as possible. How old is this missing daughter?” “Five years.” The superintendent, who was watching Nick, knew that the reply was a surprise. Nick expected to hear that the supposed victim was a young lady. “When did this abduction take place, Mr. Drexel?” “Last night!” “Where?” “At my country place, Maplewood; an hour's run up the Hudson.” “Are you in business?” “Yes, sir; I have been in business for fifty years, right here in New York.” “Of the firm of Drexel, Davis & Co., importers?” “I am senior member of that firm.” “Then he is worth several millions of dollars,” was Nick’s mental comment. After a moment’s reflection be continued his questioning ; “Have you any clew to start me off on the right track in 1 j^gse?” I Y D / d 0 | .1 , ' 8 I v j j Carter Gets a Case. , “I don’t know. ,1 kav^ my suspicions, but ” “Wait. We’ll come to that presently. First tell me about your family. Of whom is it composed?” “Myself, my wife, my stepdaughter, and my little lost Daisy. ” “Your wife was a widow when you married her?” “No.” “You said your stepdaughter?” “Oh! I was married twice. My first wife was a widow when I wedded her.” Nick was making memoranda as he went along. “What was her name— the widow's name?” - “Meredith.” “Then, of course, your stepdaughter’s name is Meredith?” “Yes. Dolly Meredith. ” “How old is she?” “Nineteen, 1 believe.” “Had this first wife any other children?” “No — er — that is ” The importer began to show a spirit of chafing under In ick s catechism ; and as he halted in his stammering reply, he turned an inquiring look upon Superintendent Byrnes. The latter promptly said: “Be free to tell him everything he wants to know, Mr. Drexel. Conceal nothing from him. Everything you say in this room will he as much a secret from the world as if it remained locked in your own heart. ” 4 But these things can have no bearing upon the abduction.” “We don’t know about that, Mr. Drexel,” said Nick. “But if I am to go to work for you I must do it intelli- gently; and I prefer to know all about your family and household, from your own lips. Tour child was ab- ducted. She was taken away for a cause. Somebody 9 W-.y . Nick Carter Gets a Case. has an interest in the crime. I am going to see if I can discover that interest the first thing. Once we have a motive, our work is comparatively easy.” “Well, I’ll conceal nothing from you, with the un- derstanding that it is for your private use only.” “Good! Now, did your first wife have any other children except this daughter when you married her— except this Dolly Meredith?” “Yes, there was a son; though I did not know of his existence until after I had married his mother.” “He is still living?” “I don’t know — I suppose so.” “You don’t know?” “The fellow has been a fugitive from justice for twelve years. ” “What was the crime?” “Murder !” “Murder?” ' “Maybe I should say homicide. He killed a man in a quarrel while both were intoxicated. He was a mere boy at the time, only sixteen, but was already running the pace. The lad escaped, and was never heard of again.” “His mother kept the fact concealed from you?” “Yes, for several years. I should not of course have married her had I known of her son’s disgrace.” Nick remained in thought for several minutes. Then, as a result, he asked : “You were not a young man when you married Mrs. Meredith?” “No; I was fifty-four years old.” “And now?” “I am sixty-five.” ' “There was no issue of that marriage?” “There ^ -’S not.” jo Nick Carter Gets a Case. “How old is the present Mrs. Drexel, the mother of your missing daughter?” “Twenty-four.”^. • ' « “Are your wife and your stepdaughter good friends?” “I am sorry to say they are not — they never agree very well.” “Has your wife cause to be jealous of your treatment of Miss Meredith?” “None whatever. I tolerate my stepdaughter only because I promised her mother on her deathbed, that the daughter should have a home and want for nothing while I live, provided she gave no cause for me to break the promise.” “Who would be your heir-at-law, Mr. Drexel, incase of the death of your little daughter?” Drexel turned pale and almost gasped for breath. Nick hastened to reassure him: “Now keep cool, sir. It may seem cruel to ask a question with a suggestion in it like that. But I must know just how the case stands in every possible phase, so that no time may be lost on a wrong trail.” “You — don’t — think — — ■” “That the little girl has been murdered? Certainly not. Had that been her enemies* design, she would not have first been carried away.” “You mean ” “I mean she would have been put out of the way when found alone — and not abducted for such a pur- pose Now tell me who is the next heir-at-law.” “My nephew.” “His name?” “Frank Willoughby.” “Where is he?” “Here in New York.” “Does he **ver visit you?” Nick Carter Gets a Case. 1 1 f 'I C. ‘ , r*i 4 6 No! no! He has not set foot in my house, with my consent, for six years.” “You had a quarrel, then?” . “Yes.” “About what?” i ’ « > •' “His marriage. He married a variety actress.” “And before that he was your heir-expectant?” “Yes.” “ Where is his wife?” “She died a year after marriage, giving birth to a child.” “And the child?” “Died also a few hours after its birth, so Pm told; I never saw either.” “Now, then, Mr. Drexel, I asked you awhile ago if you had any clew to the abduction ; you said you had your suspicions. You suspect this nephew, Frank Willoughby, of being directly or indirectly responsible for the child’s disappearance?” “Yes; but how ” “That is one of my deductions,” smiled Nick, by way of interruption. “Now tell me if there is any direct evidence to connect him with the crime.” “Yes.” Mr. Drexel took a package from his pocket, unrolled it, and produced a man’s kid glove. “This was found in the nursery after the child was missing.” Nick took the glove and examined a name written on the inside of the wrist, which Mr. Drexel pointed out. The name was “Frank Willoughby.” 12 n Nick Carter Never Fails." CHAPTER II. “nick carter never fails.” •N 45 You have made a will, Mr. Drexel?” “No, Why should I make a will? My child will inherit ail I have, save the widow’s third, and that too, at her death. It is just as I would have it.” “But children sometimes die; especially of that ten- der age.” “This is not the time to think of a will when I am thus bereaved.” “Have you ever discussed the possibility of such a bereavement and its consequent necessity?” “Yes.” “With whom?” - “ With my wife.” “She broached the subject?” “I believe she did.” “And what did you tell her?” “That should Heaven be so cruel as to take away my child, I would leave everything to her.” “Because, next to your child, you love her more than any one on earth?” “Yes. And because I should not die happy, thinking that Frank Willoughby might ever get one dollar of what I left behind.” “She knows you have made no will as yet?” “Yes. But I’ve promised her to have it drawn up within the next day or two.” “When did you promise this?” “To-day, before I left home.” f “ Nick Carter Never Fails/' 13 “Why?” “She asked me to do so.” “Humph! Does Willoughby know there is no will?” • “I think not. He may suspect, but can have no cer- tain knowledge.” “Your wife — is she prostrated over her child’s disap- pearance?” “Not prostrated; but it nearly kills her — the agony she suffers.” “Hysterical?” “No! no! Mrs. Drexel is not that kind of a woman. I have never seen her shed a tear. But it is women of that nature who suffer most.” Nick made no reply to this theory, but shifted the line of his inquiry. “Now tell me about the other inmates of the house, Mr. Drexel — your servants.” “There are only three in the house now; the cook, the coachman and hostler, and the nurse. The gar- dener and maid left two days ago.” “Why?” “I had some fault to find with the gardener. He took offense and left. The maid was his daughter, and she went with him.” “Where did they go?” “To a place two miles south of where I live.” “Their names?”* “Michael and Lizzie Dolan.” “We will keep the Dolans under our eye.” “You don’t suspect ” “I suspect nothing of the Dolans; but everybody, no matter how distantly connected with your family, must be taken into consideration. The nurse — can you trust her?” “Mary Storms? Oh, yes. She was in the service of Nick Carter Never Fails/’ my first wife, attended my present wife when Daisy was born, and never lost sight of the child since its first hour of life, until it was stolen from its bed last night.” , “Then that glove is the only clew you have to lead to the identity of the abductor?” “Yes; unless the fact that Willoughby was seen near Maplewood last evening, might be considered ad- ditional evidence of his guilt.” “I would like to see this nephew of yours.” “Would you arrest him if you could find him?” “I think I should.” “I know where he rooms; at No. — West Twenty^ fourth Street . 5 ’ “Good I I’ll look him up. I think, however, he will not be found there now.” “This may help you.” Mr. Drexel handed to Nick a cabinet photograph of a tall, handsome young man, with a face that was im- pressive, yet enigmatical. Nick examined the portrait before he asked: “This is your nephew?” “That is Willoughby.” “I may keep it?” “Yes. I brought it thinking the thing might be of service jn this way.’’ Nick stuck it in his pocket, “That is all for the present, Mr. Drexel. But before you go I have one request to make. You have not yet replaced your gardener and maid?” “No. I have been too much concerned about my missing child to give that subject thought to-day.” “Well, I will send a new gardener and maid to you .to-morrow, unless, meanwhile, I come across Mr, Wil- loughby with success . 99 Nick Carter Never Fails/' i5 “I fear I do not quite catch your meaning.” “Then do not fill the places of those deserting serv- ants till to-morrow. When I send applicants to you for the positions, with a note from me, employ them, and do not watch them too closely.” “They ” “I think you understand me,” interrupted Nick. “And if you could find some general repairing to be done all over the house and grounds, I could also find a very good professor of odd jobs for that purpose. He would come in most apropos.” “A competent man could find, plenty of that kind of work at Maplewood; but this man of yours — — ” “Will understand his business thoroughly. Just give him carte blanche , and don’t curb any imperti- nence he may assume in performing his duties.” “Then there will be three of these people you propose to send?” “There will be two, and maybe three,” said Nick. “I may explain it to my wife?” Nick had turned toward the clock on the mantel to note the time; but he wheeled around at these words, and, raising his hands impressively replied: “You must not hint a word or show a single act to any person on earth which might arouse a suspicion that these new servants are not what they pretend to be. This is most important, Mr. Drexel. I believe the parties who took your, child away have acted upon a well-laid plan, and it will be no play to recover the lit- tle one and return her to you safe and sound. At least it will require more than a day to uncover the plot which I am convinced lies behind the deed. Mean- while, if we by chance let your enemies suspect our line of action, they will balk us, and we may at the same time endanger the little one’s life.” ij 6 “ Nick Carter Never Fails.” Mr. Drexel again turned pale and grasped for support at the back of a chair. Nick noticed the terror his words had inspired, and hastened to add : * “Bear in mind that if 7/ou implicitly trust me, and no one else , I promise to restore your child to you safe and sound in good time. But you must have patience and entire confidence in the man to whom you give your case.” Mr. Drexel strode forward, grasped Nick by the hand, and said, in a voice choking with emotion : “I will trust you, sir, and obey your orders fully. If you succeed in bringing back my baby, and delivering to justice those who have torn her from me, you will never have cause to regret the time you spent in your work. If you fail, then God help me!” “I will not fail. Good-day, sir.” “Good-day. When shall I see you again?” “I can’t tell you; when you least expect me, perhaps. Where shall the cabman take you from here?” “The superintendent— — ” “Mr. Byrnes and I will remain together for the present. ” “Ttten let the cabman drive me to the Grand Central Depot. I will return to Maplewood; and I go back with a lighter heart than I brought away when I left home this morning. You have given me great hope, Mr. Carter.” * “I will verify that hope, Mr. Drexel, before many days or weeks. ’ ’ “Oh, I hope you will not fail.” Superintendent Byrnes made the reply : “He will not fail, Mr. Drexel. Nick Carter never fails. There is no such word as ‘fail’ in his vocabu- lary.” Into the Hudson River. 17 CHAPTER III. INTO THE HUDSON RIVER. After the importer had gone, Superintendent Brynes turned to Nick, who was engaged lighting a cigar, and said : “Well, my boy, what do you think of the case?” “Have a cigar, chief? What do I think of the case? J I think, before I get through with it, old man Drexel will be the most surprised person on earth.” “Yes, yes! I believe I understand. I listened in- tently, while you questioned him, and was not long in ‘getting onto’ your drift, as the boys say.” “Well, what was my drift?” “You believe the child’s mother knows where it is?” Nick glanced up quickly and looked his chief in the face, “I fear that theory is true.” “And you take no stock in the old gentleman’s belief that his nephew has a hand in the crime.” “Now there is where you are mistaken, chief.” “You believe V^illoughby abducted the child?” “Yes.” “Oh ! With the mother’s co-operation and consent?” c 4 Exactly. ’ ’ “Why should they be confederates in such a crime?” “I’m going/to try to find out.” “How?” “First, I am going to look up this Willoughby and i8 - Into the Hudson River. put the screws to him. Then I am going to study Mrs. Drexel, and other members of Mr. Drexel’ s household. ” “You are going to Maplewood in disguise?’ ’ “Yes.” „ , ' “And take Chick and Ida with you.” “That’s it; and I’ll bet you a basket, that in less tha* three days I’ll know more about old Drexel’s family than he ever dreamed about. When I restore his child, its enemies must all be hors de combat “Nick, you never had an equal in your line. You were born for the business. “Probably; I inherited my profession, you know.” “Well, the case is in your hands, and for the present I leave it there, and return to other affairs. Good-by, Nick, and quick success.” “Thanks, and good-by, chief.” At an early hour next morning, Nick Carter’s foot- steps led him to the vicinity of No. — West Twenty- fourth Street. He was mounting the steps to ring the bell when the doer opened and a man came out. The two met at the vestibule entrance, and a mutual ✓ stare was exchanged. Nick was almost certain he had seen th£fc face before, in connection with something of importance; but his memory was not active enough to bring the face and the incident together. • It is not im- probable that the man was also trying to place the face of the detective in his mind's picture gallery. “1 beg pardon,” said Nick; “but does Mr. Prank Willoughby live here?” “I believe he does; but I’m not dead sure. I just boards here ’casionally meself. Better ask the land- lady.” So saying the man ran down the steps and walked rapidly away, ■ ■>; • * Into the Hudson River. 19 “I’d give a fiver to place that fellow/’ muttered Nick; “and I’ll do it when I’ve time. Just now I have other fish to fry.” He rang the bell. A colored boy responded. “Does Frank Willoughby live here?” “Yaas, sah!” “Is he in?” “No, sah. Done lef not half an hou’ ago.” “Do you know where he went?” “Went away in a kerrige. Took his valise wid him. I dene h’ard him tell de coochman to dribe like de debil to de foot of Twenty-second Street, North Ribber.” Nick thanked the boy and turned back to the street. “That is the slip of the Albany day boats. He is leaving town by that route,” mused Nick. Then he hastily pulled his watch from his pocket and consulted it. “The boat leaves at nine o’clock. I have five min* utes to make the pier. There goes a cab. I’ll try it. She may be delayed a few minutes with freight.” Hailing the cab he offered the driver triple fare to get him to the foot of West Twenty-second Street in time for the boat, and was soon flying madly through the narrow streets of the west side. Just as they came in sight of the pier the driver drew up suddenly, sprang to the ground, and said, in a dole- ful voice : “Too late, sir. There she goes.” Nick looked out and saw the stately boat in mid- stream, half a mile up the river under full headway. “What boat is it, driver?” “The Albany.” “Good !” muttered Nick. “I know the captain, and* if I can get aboard, I’ll have no trouble about my mam 20 Into the Hudson River. I must head her off at Peekskill or somewhere up the river. Driver, a ten-dollar bill extra if you get me to the Grand Central Depot in time for the 9 :30 train, and a fiver anyhow for wear and tear.' 5 “I’ll do mv best, sir.' 5 Again it was a wild chase through the west side, and one more failure met Nick ac the end. He missed the train. - “ Well, I’ll have to take the 10:30 o'clock express to Poughkeepsie now. If he doesn’t land before the boat reaches that place. I’ll have him.” Nick left the day express at Poughkeepsie, and. upon inquiring, learned that the Albany was not due for some time. Having dispatched a “counter” lunch, the detective went to the river front, where he found a man with a rowboat, and made a hasty contract with the latter. Five minutes later they were skimming over the water down the river to meet the Albany boat. The Albany was late: and when she came into view the detective and his boatman were five miles below Poughkeepsie. In hailing the steamer Nick was compelled to go dan- gerously near the big vessel ; but he succeeded in at- tracting the attention of Captain Odell, to whom he was personally known. In consequence of this ac- quaintance he had little trouble in getting permission to come aboard. The rowboat was towed astern, and the boatman waited further orders on the lower deck. “What’s up now, Carter?” inquired Captain Odell, as he sho^k hands with Nrck. “You have a passenger aboard whom I want to meet. ’ 1 “Done something terrible, I suppose, or ycu'd not be after him?'’ Into the Hudson River. 2 1 * ‘Merely suspicion; but he is eo important I can’t afford to let him escape.” “What’s the name?” “Willoughby.” “Don’t know him; but we’ll hunt him up.” “Not necessary. I’ll not trouble you, captain. I see him.” Nick recognized the original of the photograph in a young man standing a little forward of the wheelhouse, leaning with his back against the rail smoking a cigar and quietly watching the captain and the detective. Without any ceremony Nick walked across to the young man, and said*: “Do I speak to Mr. Frank Willoughby?” “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?” “You can oblige me exceedingly by going with me without asking any questions or making resistance.” “Going with you? W r here?” “Now you are asking questions.” “Who are you? What are you?” “I am a detectvie, acting under orders of Superin- tendent Byrnes; and my name is Nick Carter.” “I’ve heard of you, Mr. Carter,” was the cool reply, as Mr. Willoughby sent a few rings of tobacco smoke into the air. “So Superintendent Byrnes wants me, does he?” “I guess so.” “For what, if I may ask?” “I’ll tell you after we leave the boat.” “But I didn’t say I would leave the boat.” “Oh, but you will; quietly, if you are wise; by force and in irons if you resist.” “Tell me one thing, and I’ll go quietly.” “Well, what is it?” “JYho is my accuser?” 22 Into the Hudson River ‘‘Gideon Drexel.” “Curse him! I thought so.” “Now will you go?” “Yes; lead the way.” “Your baggage?” “Never mind my baggage. It -will be safe here.” As Nick passed Captain Odell, he whispered: “Take car© of this man’s valise. I’ll want it ” Five minutes later the rowboat, with Nick and Wil- loughby, drew awaj 7 from the Albany, while the people on the big steamer leaned over the guards watching the departure of their fellow- passenger, and wondering what it all meant. “Where now T ?” asked the boatman of Nick. “To the first station on the Hudson River Railroad below.” As the boat was headed away from the Albany, Wil- loughby remarked that the air , was warm, and there- upon removed his coat. While he folded it and placed it tinder him, he asked ; “I’d like to know where you are going to take me,” “Well, I’ll oblige you with the information, since you’ve been so good-natured about it all,” said Nick. “I’m going to take you first of all to Maplewood.” Willoughby had taken a cigar from his vest pocket and was biting off the end when Nick gave him this information. “Have you a match?” he quietly asked, turning to the detective, who gat in the stern. Nick put his hand in his vest pocket to get the match. At the same moment Willoughby sprang upon him like a fury. “I’ve changed my mind about going with you,” shouted the prisoner. “If you can swim, you may go ashore.” 2 3 Jnto the Hudson River. . «► But be calculated too lightly on the man he was deal- ing with. Though taken by surprise, Nick saved him- self from being hurled into the river and clinched his adversary. The boatman was scared almost out of his wits, and set up a loud cry for help. His shouts were beard on board the Albany, and they caused a great commotion among the passengers. Had the boatman not been a coward, Nick would have overcome his man without risk of a wetting; but the lubber stood up in the boat and began to yell inces- santly for help. His cries exasperated Willoughby, who threw out- one foot with a backward kick, striking the man in the stomach and sending him tumbling over the side. In an instant the boat was capsized, and the two - struggling men were also in the water. The shore was half a mile away, and the channel at that place was thirty or forty feet deep. Nick realized his peril. He was in the deadly embrace of a cool, des- perate man, and both would surely drown before help could reach them unless somethingunforeseen happened with in a few seconds. 24 Lawyer Vernon, of Broad Streets CHAPTER IV. LAWYER VERNON, OF BROAD STREET. There were deep marks of mental suffering upon the face of Gideon Drexel when he entered the breakfast room at Maplewood on the morning after his visit to Nick Carter. Mar} r Storms, the nurse, who was acting as waiting maid in the absence of Lizzie Dolan, was the only person in the room when the importer entered. She w 7 as quick to notice that her master looked five ye ars older than when she had seen him last. “Is breakfast ready, Mary?” he inquired in a voice that was husky, as if from a cold. “It will be served at once, sir. Shall I call the ladies?” “Have they not yet come down?” “Miss Dolly has. She went out half an hour ago — met Mr. Vale on the terrace and walked down the avenue with him.” “I don’t like that man,” thought Mr. Drexel; “but if he will marry the girl and rid me of my obligations t ) her, he will be of some service. Helen says he is very much in love with Miss Meredith. They certainly have been a great deal together by themselves lately.” Suddenly turning to Mrs. Storms, who was ]?usy arranging the table service, Drexel inquired : “Mary, what do you know about this man Vale?” She was in the act of lifting the cover from a dish, and a crash followed the query. The cover fell from her hands upon the dish and both were shattered. Lawyer Vernon, of Broad Street. 25 A flush, apparently of mortification, suffused her face, and she exclaimed ; “Mercy! How awkward l am growing!” Then, in answer to Mr. Drexel’s question, she said : “What should I know of the young gentleman, sir? He seems to be a very agreeable sort of person, I’m sure; and he is certainly quite handsome. Mrs. Drexel kn6w him before he came to Maplewood, did she not?” “No. Helen never saw him before he called with a letter of introduction from her uncle. I wish he would finish his business in this neighborhood, whatever it may be, and go away; for a feeling of uneasiness pos- sesses me every time he comes into my presence.” Mrs. Storms watched the importer with a covert glance, and said to herself : ' “I wonder if he can suspect? Something has aroused doubts in his mind, that’s clear; and I’d give consider- able to discover what they are. It’s a desperate plot; but if it succeeds Clinton will be rich, and I’ll be the happiest woman in America.” Her thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of a showily dressed, tall, handsome, brunette, whose face was covered with an unusual amount of powder, and whose age would be well adjudged as twenty-five years. This was Helen Narcote Drexel, second wife of the millionaire owner of Maplewood, and mother of the ab- ducted child. She hastened to her husband’s side, and, with a v per~ turbation which most certainly was natural, inquired : “Gideon, have you heard nothing this morning?” The importer looked into her handsome, whitened face for a moment, and then shook his head slowly. “Nothing.” “But your detective should beep you informed of his movements, should he not?” 26 Lawyer Vernon, of Broad Street. “No, That is not a detective’s way of doing busir ness. He likes to conceal his work even from his em- ployer.” “You are quite sure you cautioned him not to come to Maplewood?” “I gave him to understand it was not necessary. He surely does not intend to come here for a personal in- vestigation, else he would not have plied me so persist- ently and exhaustively with questions?” “And did he? What were they about?” “Why, about the disappearance of Daisy, of course.” “Yes! yes! I know. Of course; but was that all?” “All? Why, what else could he have made inquiry about?” The old man’s eyes w r ere fixed upon her face as he spoke. Her eyes, in turn, fell under his gaze. Then she threw her face into her bands, and, turning, walked across the room, just as the form of a beautiful young girl appeared in the open window which served as an entrance from the veranda. The girl was Dolly Meredith, stepdaughter of the importer. She was rather below the medium height, a perfect blonde, with golden hair, blue eyes, a face for an artist’s model of the Madonna, and a form exqui- sitely molded. There was a troubled look upon her fair face as she met the eyes of her stepfather. “You have been out to meet young Yale?” he said. Her face flushed, then grew unusually pale; but she made no reply. “What is his relationship to you?” The words came in a tone wholly devoid of gentle- ness or filial feeling. Their effect upon Miss Meredith was startling. She Jh&d lost color at his first question, but now her face be-; Lawyer Vernon, of Broad Street. 27 came almost death-like. She staggered and clutched desperately at a chair, thus saving herself from sinking to the floor, in the weakness brought on by that inquiry, “What — what do you mean?” she gasped. “I mean, has he asked you to be his wife?” . The color came back into her face once more. Straightening herself as she regained her composure, Dolly replied, in a voice which, however, was not very stead v : “I have not yet been so honored.” She turned toward the table and met the eyes of Mrs. Drexel. The latter’s lips bore the faintest tinge of a sneer. A look of defiance was flashed back. Lifting her gaze from the face of her enemy, she sud- denly became aware that Mrs. Storms was looking at her with a mysterious stare. “Do they all suspect the truth?” she thought. “I must warn him, and he must go away before it is too late. ’ ’ At the breakfast table Mrs. Drexel said to her hus- band : “I do not know how we are to get along without a maid another day. When you go to the city do try to send one out here.” “I am not going to the city to-day,” replied Mr. Drexel; “but I expect a maid and a gardener. An agency promised to send a person for each position to- day.” - . “Not going to the city? Why, I thought you said you would — that your — er — you promised to make a — you know what — to-day.” Mr. Drexel’s face was marred by the shadow of a frown for a brief moment onlv. V Then, as he arose from the table, he said • 2 8 Lawyer Vernon, of Broad Street. “Trust me about that affair. I have not forgotten it.” He walked out upon the lawn, and sought the soli- tude of a rustic seat beneath a great maple which stood about one hundred yards from the house, on the edge of the carriage drive. “ Why cannot I drive that distrust of Helen from my heart! The detective did not directly accuse her of being in the plot which culminated in the abduction of Daisy ; but surety his words had a meaning w r hich could not be misconstrued. Oh, is there no one I can trust!” he moaned. “ Yes; trust me,” came a voice at his side. He sprang to his feet, to stand face to face with a middle-aged, clerical-looking man, clad in a Prince Albert coat, and holding a green silk bag in his left hand. “Who are you, sir?” gasped the astoiiished impor- ter. “Keep cool, and don’t let anyone who may be watch- ing us from the house yonder suspect for a moment that I am not expected,” rapidly spoke the stranger, as he coolly grasped Mr. Drexel’s hand and shook it cordially without resistance from its astounded owner. “Who are you, sir?” repeated Drexel. “I don’t know you.” “Probably not in this guise; but when you asked me yesterday when you would see me again I said ” “What? You are ” “Nick Carter, sub rosa ; but to everybody else Edwnrd Vernon, attorney and counselor at law, Broad Street, New York.” “Well?” ' ' | m “I must have half an hour or more of private conver- sation with you. Is there a place in your house where 7 , - 7 -77 : • ■ *;> ■> Sj.7 ... ■ ' ' ... - ■ • Lawyer Vernon, of Broad Street. 29 no one can possibly overhear what passes between us?” “Yes — -my private office.” “Good! Then you will have private business with your attorney in that room, and must not be disturbed while I am with you.” “Ah! A good excuse. I can consult you about my will.” “The very thing. And, before I leave, wee’ll have it drawn, signed, witnessed and executed.” “But ” “Never mind, now. Conduct me to the house.” In the front hall they met Mrs. Drexfel coming from the parlor. The meeting was not accidental on her part, as Nick knew. Mr. Drexel introduced his attorney, Edward Vernon, of Broad Street. A flash of something like pleasure lighted up Mrs. DrexePs eyes, as she graciously offered the supposed lawyer her hand. Nick bowed low over it, and then, while exchanging a few commonplace remarks with the lady, he read her face as he would read a book. “Wholly without honor, and deeply designing. I was not mistaken in my analysis based upon her bus- band’s information,” was Nick’s mental verdict. 3 ° Xick Recognizes Mr. Vale. CHAPTER V. IX WHICH XIOK RECOGNIZES MR. VALE, oF NEW ORLEANS. Mr. Deexel informed his wife thas he desired to remain undisturbed while’xdoseted with Mr. Vernon; and then the two men went into the room used by the importer as his private office. A quick glance around, convinced Nick that Mr. Drexel had spoken truly when he declared that this place would be perfectly safe for a confidential business interview. The master of Maplewood locked the door behind him, and motioned Nick to a chair. Then he showed his anxiety to get at the latter’s business by a two- word exclamation. “Now then!” ->v “I have some news for you.” 4 About the child?” “Not directly; about your nephew.” “Ah!” - ^ The word was almost hissed from between his clinched teeth. “Frank Willoughby sent you a message.” “Sent me a message?” Nick nodded. “Bv whom?” _ - ' / “By me- I have come to deliver it/ “ Why, what message could be have to send?” 3 1 Nick Recognizes Mr. Yale. “It was this: ‘ When you see Gideon Drexel, give him my grateful consideration, and tell him that his millions do not give my mind a moment’s thought. He will some day understand that there is something sweeter to me in this world than all his money.’ ” “What dxl he mean by the something that is sweeter to him than all mj money?’" “I don’t know. Do you?” “Revenge?” “That is the way I took it.” “Where was he when he gave you that message? 7 ’ “In the Hudson River, near Poughkeepsie.” “What!” Nick smiled at the importer’s astonishment, “I said he w T as in the Hudson River when ne said that, swimming for shore.” “And where were you?” “I was also in the river, swimming toward the steamer Albany.” “I don’t undersand all this.” * “Then listen, and I’ll explain.” Nick hurriedly related the story of his chase after Willoughby, which ended in the upsetting of the row r ~ boat, and their fall into the river, each clutched in the other’s deadly embrace. “I very quickly realized that neither of us would live under those conditions until a boat could be lowered from the Albany and sent to the rescue,” said Nick, in concluding his narrative of the adventure. “And as I was not quite ready to give up the detective business, I made up my mind to accept the only way out of the deadly danger.” “Which was?” “To declare my business with your nephew a draw.” “Please explain.” 32 Nick Recognizes Mr. Vale. “I shook his hand from my throat long enough to say , * Suppose we postpone further proceedings in this business till some future time?’ i 4 4 He is a very shrewd young man, for in an instant he took in my meaning and replied : 44 ‘Agreed. Promise that you will not pursue me after I let go my hold, nor permit me to be molested by any one from the Albany, and I’ll strike a truce with you.’ “There was no time to lose. I realized that I was dealing with a desperate man, whose life would go out with my own~rather than I should have the chance to force him to disclose the hiding, place of the abducted child. I, therefore, immediately agreed to his proposi- tion. We loosened our deadly holds upon each other’s throats and separated— not any too soon. “He, as well as I, had to rest on the surface of the water for a few moments to regain breath and strength. Then he struck out for the shore, and I waited patiently for the boat which the captain of the Albany had sent to my rescue.” “And where did he go?” “He swam ashore and disappeared. I landed at Poughkeepsie and went back to the city.” “Yet Superintendent Byrnes said you never fail.” “So he did. The superintendent may be a little too enthusiastic over his belief in my professional abilities. But in the abstract he was not far wrong when he told you I never fail. This adventure with your nephew was not a failure— merely a slight delay in the work before me. In the end you will find I have not failed vou. “I hope so.” “Before we proceed further, you must make a will.” “I intended to do that to-morrow.” 33 Nick Recognizes Mr. Vale “You must do it to-day — right now,” “But how? I must have a lawyer ” “I am a lawyer,” smiled Nick; “for the occasion, at least. The will I want you to make is only intended for a blind.” “To deceive some one?” “Exactly.” “Who? Willoughby?” “He is one of them.” “One of them?” “Remember my theory that this abduction is part of a plot, and a plot necessarily implies that there are conspirators.” “Whom do you suspect?” “I prefer not to say at present.” “Well, about this sham will?” “I have it drawn up. It is here in my bag.” Nick drew forth a formidable looking legal docu- ment, which he unfolded and handed to Mr. Drexel. The latter glanced over the contents and exclaimed : “Why, this practically means nothing at all. It leaves my estate one of inheritance under the laws, the same as if there was no will whatever.” “Certainly. I said it was only a sham. My object is to convey a belief, that you have made your will un- der an incentive from your fears concerning the abduc- tion. Those interested in the plot, whatever it may be, will then form their own opinions of the nature of the will.” “And yet there will be no will?” * “No. And I’d advise you to make none other till we see what will be the effect of the news of this sup- posed will’s existence.” “Tell me, Mr. Carter, what your object is in work- ing off this deception.” 34 Nick Recognizes Mr. Vale. “Do you insist upon knowing?’ ’ “Yes.” ' “It is to put an extra guard over your life.” Mr. Drexel turned pale. “ You think my life is in danger?” Nick remained silent ten seconds before he replied: “It will do no barm to take every precaution.” “But I do not see how this bogus will, which means nothing, can guard my life.” “Probably not. I can’t explain; but in good time yon will know.” “Nobody will have any idea of its supposed provi- sions.” y 1 “Oh! yes, they will,” grinned Nick; “otherwise it would be useless waste of time to pretend to execute it.” “Why, how? You will not read it to the witnesses, surel}’; for then the most simple-minded would see that it is worded to mean nothing.” “Read it? Certainly not. But I shall make a few remarks to the witnesses which will show you clearly the impression it is intended to convey. You must not show surprise at my words, and under no circumstances indicate afterward that the supposed will is other in its provisions than what my words suggest. Now call in your household.” “All of them?” “As many as you cau reach.” Mr. Drexel went to the door, unlocked it, and rang a bell. Mrs. Storms answered. “Where is Mrs. Drexel?” “On the lawn.” “And Miss Meredith?” “In her room, I think.” - k “Ask them to come here. Then find Martin and the cook and bring them to this room.” Nick Recognizes Mr. Vale. 35 Mrs. Storms hastened away with a flush of excite- ment on her face, which Mr. Drexel did not notice. Nick placed himself so as to get the benefit of full light upon the face of each person who entered the room. Mrs. Drexel was the first to respond. Her counte- nance was animated with a look of expectancy which Nick was not surprised to see. Then came Miss Meredith; and, as the great detect- ive was introduced to her, he could not conceal- the ad- miration which her great beauty aroused within him. “Unless my first impression is wrong, here is one whose assistance I may need to help me out. Surely in one so beautiful, there can be no guile,” he thought. At Mary Storms, Mrs. Crosby the cook, and Martin Maloney, the coachman and hostler, he glanced hastily; but each glance was a magnifying search in which character was under the lens of his analytical eye. The cook he dismissed without a thought. Her black, homely face and stupid features pronounced the negress incapable of enough intelligence for good or evil action. She was a human machine — nothing more. He noted the shrewd features and uneasv, restless eyes of Mrs. Storms, however, and mentally made this memorandum : “That woman will do to watch.” The coachman caused his gaze to linger. There was something about Martin Maloney which Nick could not reconcile with his ideas of a coachman. The man was young, handsomely proportioned, rather prepossessing in looks, and lacked that uneasy, awkward want of self- command so common among servants when called into the company of their superiors ; and there was something in the fellow’s shifting blue eyes which aroused an un- usual amount of interest in Nick. “This man is also worth watching, ' ^ the- detect- 36 Nick Recognizes Mr. Vale. ive’s unspoken measurement of Mr. Drexel’s man servant. “I must find out more about Martin Maloney as soon as possible.” Mr. Drexel, addressing his assembled household, said : “My attorney will explain my object in calling you all together in this room.” Just as Nick was about to speak, there was an unex- pected interruption. A young man, clad in a light- colored summer suit, made his appearance in the door- way. Pretending an embarrassment, which to Nick’s trained eye was clearly counterfeited, the young man halted on the threshold and began to mumble an «* . . apology. In the few moments which the intruder occupied with his apparent desire to assure Mr. Drexel that he meant no intrusion, Nick gave a quick glance around the room, and the result was even more astonishing than he could have expected. There was on Dolly Meredith’s face a flush as if of anger; Mrs. Storms’ brows were gathered in si, frown; the coachman glared at the newcomer with a look plainly one of hate; and Mrs. Drexel’s face alternately paled and flushed under some half-suppressed excite- ment. “Now, by all the gods of ancient mythology !” was Nick’s inward exclamation, “this thing is growing interesting ! At least four of these people are interested in yonder man, and this time I do not fail to fully recognize him.” Another scene flashed upon Nick’s mind — the scene wherein he had met a man coming out of No. - — West Twenty-fourth Street as he was ascending the steps to make inquiry about Prank Wi Hough by* I Nick Recognizes Mr. Vale. 37 «#» I couldn t place him then,” Nick was saying to himself; “but now I know him as I know my own por- trait. If he is in this plot, and it seems as if he is, then thefe is at least one very shrewd and dangerous villain for me to deal with. ” % 1 \ \ f '? - 38 Nick Carter Has a Surprise. A :r ■ • , 1 CHAPTER VI NICK CARTER HAS A SURPRISE. It took but a few seconds for all this to flash through Nick’s mind. “I beg leave to withdraw, Mr, Drexel, and assure you at the same time that I meant no impertinent in- trusion. ” The importer shot a quick, questioning glance toward Nick. “If the gentleman is a friend of the family,” said the supposed lawyer, “let him remain, by all means.” “Then come in, Mr. Yale, and permit me to intro- duce you to my attorney, Mr. Vernon, of New York City,” responded the importer. “Mr. Vernon, this is Mr. Vale, of New Orleans — a very intimate friend of my wife’s uncle.” As Nick shook hands with Vale, he was thinking: “Mr. Vale, of New Orleans, the intimate friend of Mrs. Drexel’s uncle will be a very much surprised man when he becomes better acquainted with Lawyer Vernon, of New York City.” * ^ This is, however, what he said : “Any friend of my old client, Mr. Drexel, or of any member of his family, is my friend, too, if I am per- mitted to assume such relationship. Be seated, Mr. Vale. You have come in at a time when as many per- sons as know Mr. Drexel intimately are particularly desired to be witnesses to what is about to occur.” He then r^ked up a written instrument which fee Nick Carter Has a Surprise. 39 held in one hand, while with the other he leaned upon the table for a support. The assembled little company turned to him with well-depicted curiosity on their faces. “Mr. Drexel has summoned you here, ladies and gen- tlemen, into his presence to witness the signing, seal- ing and execution of his will, which is made a seeming necessity by the sad incident of night before last. “Only two witnesses are necessary to attest his signa- ture; but the importance of the conditions of this instru- ment is so great that he desires every member of his household and you, too, Mr. Vale, as an intimate friend of the family, to bear witness that he is perfectly sane, and wholly responsible for this free and voluntary act.’* Nick noticed a quick, furtive glance pass between Vale and Mrs. Drexel. “When a man leaves the bulk of his fortune to some f , , ... V • , eleemosynary purpose — dependent on a contingency • — he cannot be too cautious to guard against any possi- ble attempt to set aside the bequest in a court of law after bis death. The fate of the late Samuel J. Tilden’s will is a warning to men who desire to dispose of their property in a similar manner.” Without appearing to do so, Nick kept Mrs. Drexel and Vale under his eyes while he threw out this broad hint of the contents of the will. What he expected to see occurred. Their optical telegraph once more flashed a mutual message. This time it was plainly one of alarm and disappointment. “The plan works like a charm,” mused Nick. Without further words the pseudo lawyer laid the document on the table and asked Mr. Drexel to sign it, which the latter did. “Now we will need the signature of two witnesses,” he said, h» ^‘ng around the room. “It is best to take 40 Nick Carter Has a Surprise. Jf '-v \ two who are young and not in any way related to the family. You, my good man, may be the first. ” He pointed to Martin Maloney, who, after a slight hesitation, approached and affixed his signature. The coachman seemingly wrote with great difficulty in a cramped, straggling hand; but Nick’s quick eye noted the fact that the witness held the pen in the proper way, and that the stroking and shading were those of a good penman. ✓ “Mr. Maloney is dissembling,” was the detective’s" s silent comment. “Now, then, Mr. Yale, if you will kindly oblige.” There was a gleam of something like satisfaction in Mr. Yale’s eyes as he came forward and dashed off his } signature in a free, bold hand. When Nick gently pressed the blotter over Mr. Vale’s signature he was gratifying his soul with a sup- pressed chuckle of delight. “That is the neatest trap I ever sprang upon an un- suspecting scoundrel,” he thought. “I now have his signature, and I would not give it up for a cool thou- sand. Luck runs right into my hand.” “I presume, Mr. Vernon, you will take my husband’s will back to the city with you for safe keeping,” said Mrs. Drexel. “Yes, madam; I surely Will when I go. But Mr. Drexel has been so kind as to invite me to stay here at his charming home, as his guest for a few days; and as this is the dull season in our profession, and as I really need a few days’ relaxation from business, I have thank- fully accepted.” A look of consternation at first came into Mrs. Drexel’s face, which soon changed, under the influence of some thought, to one of satisfaction; all of which Nick noted as if he, saw it on a printed page. THIS IS A SPECIAL BOOK: ORDERED FROM ANOTHER LIBRARY. IT DOES NOT BELONG TO DEERFIELD. PLEASE TAKE CARE! IF LOST, DAMAGED, OR NOT RETURNED, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE TO THE LENDING LIBRARY FOR FULL REPLACEMENT COSTS. THESE MAY EXCEED THE COST OF THE BOOK. PLEASE RETURN THIS BOOK ONLY TO THE REFERENCE DESK AT THE DEERFIELD LIBRARY WHERE YOU PICKED IT UP; NOT IN THE OUTSIDE BOOK DROP OR THE FRONT CIRCULATION DESK. THANK YOU. DEERFIELD PUBLIC LIBRARY 920 WAUKEGAN ROAD DEERFIELI, ILLINOIS 60015 Nick Carter Has a Surprise. 41 Nick was gratified to see Mr. Drexel receive this bold announcement, which must have been unexpected, with- out any more show of surprise than a quick elevation of the eyes and a slight compression of the lips. “I hope, madam, that my short visit will not be un- pleasant to you.” “Why, certainly not, Mr. Vernon. It will be a gre?ft pleasure to us all, or would be, did it not come during the time of our worry over our little girl’s dis- appearance.” Mrs. Drexel dropped her face into her hands with affected emotion; but to Nick the simulation was as plain as if it had been the work of a poor actress on the stage. “We are a little short in house service, Mr. Vernon; but we will strive to make your visit pleasant, ” the lady said almost directly, as she raised her head and pretended to shake off her grief with a mighty effort. “Please, Mrs. Drexel, there is a man and a woman in the kitchen who say they were sent here from the city in answer to Mr. Drexel’s application for servants. ” It was Mrs. Storms who spoke. She had left the room immediately after the signing of the will. “How fortunate,” smiled Mrs. Drexel. “I hope they will suit.” “They must suit, my dear,” responded the importer. “At least we must give them a trial. Servants are very hard to get.” “Oh, I shall take the woman and be thankful for the chance, though I know she will not ba so useful as Lizzie was. You can do as you like with this man.” “Well, if Chick and Ida don’t give satisfaction all around, they’ll not do credit to my teaching,” muttered Nick. “Now that we three have secured access to this nest of conspirators, it will be strange if we do not turn 42 Nick Carter Has a Surprise. things up satisfactorily to Mr. Drexel’s interest within the next few days.’ ’ The new servants gave their names as Katrine and Karl Koenig, brother and sister, who had just recently arrived from the old country. Their principal short- coming as American servants laid in the fact that nei- ther could speak nor understand any language but German. Fortunately, Mr. Drexel and his wife* as well as Mrs. Storms, were able to converse in that tongue quite readily, a possibility on which Nick had taken considerable chances when he instructed Chick and Ida in the parts they were to play at Maplewood. So the two new servants were immediately installed in and about the house where their chief was received as a favorite guest. 4 4 Your baggage will be here soon, Mr. Yernon — or is it at the station now?” asked Mrs. Drexel, some few hours later, as she, in company with the other members of the family, arose from luncheon. 44 1 will telegraph to my landlady for it, to-night. To tell the truth, I had no idea of remaining in this charming spot until your husband so kindly extended the invitation as we walked up the avenue together this morning.” Therefore, that same afternoon Nick walked to the railroad station, about a mille distant, refusing his host’s offer to have Maloney drive him over. It was 4 4 bet ween trains” when he reached the station, and no v one was there at the time but the operator. Nick wrote out this dispatch and handed it to the young man at the telegraph instrument : u Mrs. Carter, No. — Street, New York City. Please express to me at this place, caTe Gideon Drexel, Trunk • G. ’ Edward Vebncm*” Nick Carter Has a Surprise. 43 • - • ' . . > '.‘i ' , < t < “ She’ 11 know who it is; and the name will give her the address for the trank,” soliloquized Nick. “Mr. Operator, please send this at once,” he said, handing the written message through the window. As he turned to leave, a man dressed in a homespun suit, and wearing a full beard, came in from the door opposite the track, and, approaching the desk, on which telegraph blanks were scattered, he began slowly pen- ning a message on one of them. Nick gave him little or no attention and left the fel- low struggling over his work. As the detective walked out he was aware that the operator had just begun the transmission of his message to the city. The afternoon was very warm, and Nick made a detour on his return to*Maplewood so as to pass through apiece of heavy woodland which lay a little to the south of the public highway. The wood looked, from a distance temptingly cool, and Nick was not disap- pointed in finding it so. Several hundred yards from its edge, he found a ae* lightful resting-place on a large shaded rock at the very foot ot a small cascade, which came tumbling down a rather ragged declivity some thirty feet in height. On this stone seat he sat down to rest and think over this strange case which he had undertaken to work up.- His perfect confidence in the seclusion of this out-of- the-way place threw him off his guard, and the noise of the waterfall probably kept from his ears the sound of the carefully guarded footsteps of an approaching person. He was suddenly taken completely by surprise by a voice almost at his side and slightly above him, ex- claiming: “A charming spot, is it not — Mr. Nicholas Carter?” W ithout showing the least alarm, or any sign of the 44 Nick Carter Has a Surprise. surprise these words created in his mind, Nick glanced up. There, not six feet away, stood the man he had left in the telegraph station half an hour before. The man had his arms half folded in front of him, one of them forming a rest for the right hand, in which was held a self -cocking revolver, the muzzle of which was so pointed that the detective’s eyes looked straight up into the deadly barrel and six loaded chambers. 4 4 Charming is no word for it, Mr. . Ah! You have the advantage of me there, my dear sir,” smiled Nick nonchalentlv. V “That’s so, I have,” was the equally cool response; while that deadly weapon was not permitted to waver a hair’s breadth from its deadly angle. 4 4 Let me intro- duce myself. Maybe you have heard of me before — Mr. Nicholas Carter. I have no card, and if I had my hands are so arranged that it would really be awkward for me to present it. However, I think you have not quite forgotten Gideon Drexel’s nephew — Frank Wil- loughby.” \ \ DrexeTs Nephew Declares Himself. 45 CHAPTER VII. GIDEON DREXEL’S NEPHEW DECLARES HIMSELF. To say that Nick Carter was surprised when this man standing over him, with a murderous looking pistol pointed at his head, announced himself to be Frank Willoughby, is but to record the truth. But not a muscle of the detective’s face or body moved, nor a shade of color changed in his countenance to show it. With the utmost indifference, he said: “How should I know you when you see fit to honor me with your presence while so thoroughly disguised?” “Yet I am not a detective, and therefore not such an adept at disguising a3 you are. Now your masquerad- ing costume is much more artistic than mine. Yet you see I knew you without an introduction.” p “Yes; I see. And I understand how you made your supposed discovery. You read telegraphy?” “Fluently!” “And heard the operator down there transmit my message?” “That’s it. . “And from the person to whom it was sent you jumped^© the conclusion that- 1 am Nick Carter, the detective?” The man nodded. “I haven’t admitted it.” “No; but you will.” “Ah! You think so?” “I am sure of it.” 46 Drexel’s Nephew Declares Himself/ “Please state the grounds of your assurance — not that pistol, I hope?' * “Not this pistol; no, sir.*” ^ “Then why do you keep me covered with it so closely ?* ' * “To make sure that you will .patiently hear what I have to say to you." “Well, under the circumstances, I don't intend to re- fuse you a respectful audience.” “ Wisely spoken. Now then, listen to what I have to say: You are at Maplewood in disguise and in a professional capacity." Nick made no reply, and the man continued : “In some way you have hit upon me as the chief ras- cal on your list” Nick nodded. “Well, lam going to convince you before we part, that, shrewd a detective as your are, you have made a great blunder. ” “Going to prove that? How?” “I’ll begin right now and in this way.” Thereupon he hung the pistol away and dropped on the rock at Nick's side. Had he hred the revolver into the detective's face the surprise of his act could not have been greater. “Is that the act of a guilty man? I thus place my- self at your mercy, and throw myself upon your spirit of fairness.” “Well, I shall certainly hear all you have to say now, Willoughby, and give it due consideration.” “Thank you. You shall not regret that decision. Now tell me what you had do chance to tell me in the boat yesterday; why was I arrested?” “Don’t you know?” “I am not certain.” Drexel’s Nephew Declares Himself, 47 “You suspect?” “Yes.” “But you deny being a party to the crime?” “A party to the crime. Why, if it was a crime, there could be no one implicated but me.” “Do you then, while admitting the deed, mean to make me believe you iiad no confederates in Maple- wood?” “Wait a minute. I begin to suspect that we are pulling on different lines. What crime are you speak- ing of?” “The abduction.” “The what?” There was no mistaking the tone of sincere surprise in those words. “Now look you, Mr. Willoughby; do you pretend that you know nothing about the abduction at Maple- wood?” “I do. On my word as the gentleman you will find me to be, I do. Who has been abducted?” “Before I answer you, there is one question you must answer for me.” “Well?” “You spoke of a supposed crime for which you might have been suspected. What crime did you mean?” Willoughby hesitated a moment before he answered: “It might be classed as housebreaking or burglary.” “Then you entered Maplewood clandestinely?” “Yes.” “When?” “Night before last.” “With what object in view?” “Now Fll tell you after you have answered my ques- tion about the abduction.” “Who was the abducted party?” 48 Drexel s Nephew Declares Himself. “Yes.” “Gideon Drexel’s daughter.” “Great Heaven! — not Dolly?” Willoughby started up from his lounging position, and there was terror written on his face. “No. Not Miss Meredith, the stepdaughter, but Mr. Drexel’s child, Dais} 7 .” ‘ ^ | | A look of relief came into his face; but he replied: “No! no! Not that little angel. Who could be so cruel as to carry her away from her home?” “That is why I am up here — to find out.” “Then let me help you.” “You help me? Why, how?” “I don’t know. But perhaps I can. If I could h£lp restore his child, maybe Uncle Gideon would look upon me more leniently.” “Be careful. You are confessing a motive.” ^ “A motive? Ah, yes. What was believed to be the motive in my supposed abduction of little Daisy?” “Twofold. Revenge, and the removal of the heir who stands between you and Gideon Drexel’s millions.” “Bah! If I wanted revenge I’d take it in a manner very different from that. And what good would even Daisy’s death do me so long as wills are recognized by courts?” . W “Perhaps you can suggest somebody who would profit in some way by the little girl’s abduction?” “No. I cannot.” “Well, to return to your own case. Now tell me why you clandestinely entered Maplewood on the night of the abduction.” “I went in response to a note.” “From whom?” “I supposed it was from Miss Meredith.” “What wasjn the note?” Drexel’s Nephew Declares Himself. 49 V4, “A request for me to come to ber in her room at eleven o’clock that night; that she had something to tell me of great importance, and that her stepfather must not know we met.” “Was that all?” “No; *she directed me to enter through the nursery on the second floor, in the rear, at the window of which I w&uld find a ladder placed there by the gardener at her request. She said Michael Dolan and his daughter Lizzie were her friends, and would not betray me. Also, that Lizzie would see to it that the nursery would be deserted. Her room was just across the hall from the nursery.” “And you went?” “Yes.” “The ladder was there?” “Yes.” “The nursery was deserted?” “Yes.” * ‘ “You found Miss Meredith ” “Asleep in her bed. I scared her nearly to death; and then she became so indignant that I had to flee for fear she would arouse the household.” “A case where discretion was the better part of valor?” smiled Nick. “Surely it was.” “You had been trapped.” “It looks like it. Yet I would have sworn the note was written by Miss Meredith.” “Where is that note?” “In my valise.” “Good ! We’ll have a chance to examine it.’* “I fear not. It is on the steamer Albany.” “There you are mistaken. It is in my house at New York. I’ll send for it.” 50 Drexel’s Nephew Decfares Himself* * ‘Oh! Confiscated, was it?” “Temporarily, yes, I think I will return it, how- ever. ” “Then you believe what I have told you?” “How can I help it?” “You are a guest at Maplewood. You can help me, and maybe I can aid you. ” “Help you, Mr. Willoughby? In what?” “In making my — my peace with Miss Meredith.” “So! And what is Miss Meredith to you?” “She is everything to me— life, happiness.” “You love her?” “Yes; with my whole soul. I would not make this confession did I not need your help.” “But she has another suitor?” “Who?” There was a sudden glare in Willoughby’s eyes. “A young friend of Mrs. Drexel, from New Orleans, named Vale.” “Ah! the fellow who has been hanging around in this neighborhood for two weeks?” “The same.” “But she does not encourage him?” “On the contrary, she does; and they are very often alone together.” “That explains her apparent coolness toward me, for the last fortnight every time we met. She has not seemed herself in all that -time.” “You must force her to an explanation.” “I would like to; but how can I meet her for such a purpose?” “Meet her this evening.” “Where?” “Here. I’ll arrange it. Have you paper and pencil?” Drexel’s Nephew Declares Himself. 51 “Yes." * ‘ Then write her a note to meet you here at eight o’clock this evening, and say that she must not fail, as it may concern one in whom she is just now greatly interested.” “Who, Vale?” “Never mind who — just write the note.” “She may not come.” “I think she will.” “You will not deliver the note yourself?” “No; but it will reach her, never fear.” The note was written and placed in Nick’s possession. He then arose, and, offering Willoughby his hand, he said: “I will meet you here at five o’clock to-morrow morning, Mr. Willoughby; and then we can talk more definitely of our future relationship. Is it a bargain?” “Yes. If I can be of help to you. command me.” “I will; for I think you can aid me materially. Till to-morrow morning, adieu.” As the detective strode away he muttered : ~~ “There is more mystery to clear up at Maplewood than I suspected. Well, when Willoughby and Miss Meredith meet at the cascade this evening, I’ll be lying flat behind that big rock, and perhaps I’ll be able to piok up a few points.” ;T ' r " 9 1 < • Nick Carter’s Rabbit Hunt CHAPTER YIII. 9 NICK CARTER’S MEMORABLE RABBIT HUNT. Nick Carter, - in returning to Maplewood, after leaving Frank Willoughby at the woodland cataract, took a roundabout course which would bring him to the house from the rear. The tract of woods extended in an unbroken stretch until it passed beyond the confines of Mr. DrexeFs estate. About a quarter of a mile from the house there was an unusually thick collection of underbrush, so densely interwoven with vines of some wild variety that it seemed impossible for any person to penetrate them. Right on the edge of this miniature jungle, and on the margin of the wood, was a rustic arbor fitted up with easy seats, and a lounge woven from the roots of trees and dead vines. A coarse blanket was spread upon the lounge, improvising therefrom a rough couch, and testifying to the fact that the place was frequented by some person or persons. Nick stopped, and, feeling somewhat tired, stretched himself at full length upon the rustic couch. “X wonder whether this has not been a trysting place for some of the conspirators who live over yonder in that rich man’s house, 3 ’ ho soliloquized. “The arbor is ad- mirably fitted for such a purpose. One can sit here and see the approach of any one els© from a distance in all direptions far beyond the ordinary sound of a human voice — in all Erections but one. That copse, however. Nick Carter’s Rabbit Hunt. 53 extends back far enough to keep eavesdroppers at a safe distance, unless they could find concealment in its dense body. And I imagine it would be rather a difficult task to work oneself into the thing.” He turned upon his left side so as to take a good look at the underbrush. “Hello! There’s a hole among the vines close down on the ground which looks as if a dog had worked his way in after a rabbit or some species of game. I won- der if a man could squeeze in, too, in case of necessity.” After musing over the situation for a minute or two, Nick lazily rolled over upon his right side which brought into his line of vision the entire vista between the arbor and the mansion of Maplewood. What he saw caused him to utter an exclamation of surprise. “By all that’s mysterious, if there isn’t Mrs. Drexel in the company of Mr. Yale, of New Orleans! They are coming this way. I have not yet been discovered.— If I could conceal myself within earshot, who knows what — ■ By the holy. ground hog! — the hole in the underbrush! I’ll get in there or tear every stitch of clothing from my body.” Without rising, and without losing a moment in further observation, the detective dropped off the couch and crawled flat upon his stomach to the hole in the copse. To his great satisfaction the entrance was less - difficult than it looked. He therefore entered back- ward instead of head-first, as was his first intention. Once safely under cover, Nick carefully arranged the vines about the entrance to his retreat until he could barely see the interior of the arbor, and yet was himself securely hidden from even the most pentrating eye. Then he waited for the arrival of the approaching couple. Not a word passed between them until they 54 Nick Carter's Rabbit Hunt. were both seated. Vale was smoking a cigar with a nonchalance that seemed audacious, and Mrs. DrexePs face plainly bore the signs of annoyance. She was the first to speak 1 4 4 What do you propose to do now?'’ “I propose, in the first place, to get possession of that will.” * , ^ “What good would that do? This man Vernon would miss it, and another would be drawn up and exe- cuted in its place, 7 ’ “Probably: if there was anybody to execute another when the present will is missed.” “What do you mean? Your idea that the abduction of Daisy would bring on DrexePs heart trouble, and probably kill him, has not been verified by the facts. Neither has your scheme succeeded to get him to make a will in my favor, provided the child should never be found.” ; “There is no accounting for the perversity of these rich old men. But I’ll get the better of him. You and I will enjoy his millions yet.” “Suppose we fail, and he- succeeds in disposing of his wealth otherwise. You certainlv would not ask me to become your penniless wife?” “I certainly should. My love is not a sordid one; although love in a cottage, I know, is far less blissful than love in a castle.” “Bah! Why talk about love? You know I never cared a picayune for yon, and never will.” “That remains to be seen. You would bury no love in old Drexel’s grave, and I presume no other man pos- sesses what I covet.” A slight flush suffused her cheeks at these words. She raised her fan quickly as if to hide it, and if be saw her perturbation he affected not to notice it. 55 Carter > s Rabbit Hunt. “What do you propose to do next?” she exclaimed. “Leave that to me. I can now work alone with best effect.” “Then let us return to the house. We must not be seen too much together. My husband might become suspicious.” “Not likely. He is too well satisfied that I am dead in love with his stepdaughter.” “What is her secret by which you hold her under your thumb?” “It would be no secret if more than she and I knew it,” he smiled. “It seems to me you deal in women’s secrets,” testily t replied Mrs. Drexel. Yale laughed sardonically. Then he drawled : “Well, it was lucky that I discovered your secret, else I believe I wouldn’t have been able to have got within speaking distance of your ladyship. And it was equally lucky that I fell into possession of Miss Mere- dith’s secret, else I should not have had such splendid opportunities to meet you, and lay out plots right under old Drexel’s nose, while pretending to be dead in love with his stepdaughter and paying her desperate atten- tion.” “There is one thing about your relationship with Miss Meredith which I can’t understand.” “Indeed?” “Why does she tolerate you, become a party to the deception, and even show an interest in your welfare, when I know she has no such love for you as a girl gives to the man she hopes to marry?” “How do you know she does not?” “That is my secret,” laughed Mrs. Drexel. “Very well. It is only fair you should have some- thing to oftcet- that which holds you in my power.” 56 Nick Carter’s Rabbit Hunt. U Mr. Vale, I would give much to know how you discovered my secret. 5 ’ “No doubt.” “There is only on© living person who shared it with me before you came, and that one I am convinced is true tome.” His only answer was a hard, metallic laugh. Then he turned to scratch a match against the lattice. As t oon as his countenance was averted Nick saw a*lookof deadly hate distort the face of Mrs. Drexel. Her lips ^parted, showing her white teeth clinched under somA hidden fury, and her eyes flashed with the fires of the volcano which smoldered in her heart. “We will go back now,” he said, ash© finished light- ing his cigar. She arose to go; but her attention, as well as that of Vale’s, -was diverted by the baying of a hound which was approaching from the direction of the house. A flying rabbit a few rods in front of the dog explained the situation. The plotting couple for a moment, as they stood watching the chase, forgot their conspiracy. Nick heard the baying of the bound, and he also heard Vale exclaim: “There’s sport for you, Helen. Two to one the rabbit beats the dog to the copse.” The detective understood the situation, and knew that his hiding-place was in imminent danger of discovery. Before he could safely collect his thoughts there was a rustle at the edge of the copse, the frightened rabbit broke through the vines and halted within reach of his right hand. It seemed perfectly indifferent to his presence, but turned with extended ears to listen for the approach of its deadly four-legged foe. The hound dashed up to the copse as if it intended to break through in pursuit of its game, el ust as it reached 57 Nick Carter’s Rabbit Hunt. the place where Nick had crawled into hiding, it re- % coiled and uttered a growl of terror, while the bristles on its neck stood upright, indicative of some unusual and unexpected canine discovery. “Hello!” exclaimed Yale, approaching .the dog. “What does that mean? There is something in there besides that rabbit.” # Nick saw him reach back to his hip pocket, draw out a silver-mounted revolver, and stoop down to a level with his hiding-place, as he exclaimed : “I’ll just help the dbg out by scattering a few bullets around in there in search of whatever there may be bidden by these vines and the underbrush.” 58 What Nick Saw and Heard, CHAPTER IX. WHAT NICK SAW AND HEARD AT THE CASCADE. The situation was extremely critical. Nick realized it, and decided that be must hit upon some plan to divert Vale’s mischievous intentions. The rabbit sat erect on its hind legs within easy reach, totally oblivious to a human presence, but facing its canine pursuer, and wholly intent upon listening for sounds from the outside. Like a flash Nick decided upon a chance to avert his danger. Raising his right hand he gently cuffed the frightened rabbit upon the side of the head— not hard enough, however, to stun the creature. The effect was exactly as h© hoped it would be. Forgetting the danger from without in its new terror, the rabbit made a dash forward just as it faced, and in a moment yvas once more in open space, bounding away from the copse. The appearance of the rabbit caused the hound to forget the object in the underbrush, the secret of which had caused him to halt on the out- skirts; and he set off after his victim with renewed vigor. Nick’s flesh gave a few creeping shivers as he heard the near discharge of the chambers from Vale’s pistol. But the latter’s words, immediately following the re- ports, served to quiet the detective’s nerves. u By Jove, I missed him ! Luckily, I also missed the What Nick Saw and Heard. 59 “Let us return to the house. I fear the sound of your pistol shots will attract undue attention. ” “What of it? There is no harm in shooting at a rab- bit, I guess. If I never aim at larger game some people will be exceedingly lucky.” They were moving away while this conversation oc- curred, and presently Nick lost the sound of their voices entirely. Still he exercised much caution. Slowly moving on his stomach toward the edge cf the under- brush, he carefully parted the leaves so that he could see beyond the rustic arbor. His deliverance was not in question. Vale and Mrs. Drexel were slowly saun- tering away in the direction of the house. He w r atched them till they disappeared. Then he cautiously emerged from his hiding and, without rising erect, began to crawl around the copse until part of it was between him and the residence at Maplewood. Not till then did he rise to his feet. He shook him- self rquch like a dog just coming from the water. “Well, I don’t mind it so much when a man points a pistol at me, and I have an equal chance by facing him,” muttered Nick; “but this thing of being hedged in by bramble bushes and seeing a man with a pistol getting ready to fire promiscuously in the wrong direc- tion, i3 not exactly a nerve tonic. Ugh !” Having carefully brushed himself off, he made a de- tour through the woods and came out a quarter of a mile below the arbor. He proceeded immediately to the house. In the front yard he found Chick, in the guise of a German gar dener, busily trimming up some flower beds. Nick pretended an interest in the work and stopped as if to watch the young German. Presently he stooped over a cluster of verbenas, and while plucking a flower concealed Willoughby’s note among the leaves. 6o What Nick Saw and Heard. c 4 Take that to Ida, and have her leave it where Miss Meredith and no one else will be sure to find it,” whis- pered Nick. 44 All right,” was the low- toned reply. “X must see you to-night, Nick. I have news.” “Fll lower a rope ladder from my window at one o’clock. Come to my room.” 44 Which is your room?” 44 On the west side, second floor, directly over the office.” 44 A11 right. I’ll be there. ” 4 4 Better see Ida before vou come, and find out what she has to say. She may have gathered some informa- tion, too. Look out! There comes the coachman.” Half an hour before the time set by the note for the meeting of Willoughby and Dolly Meredith, Nick crept up through the deep shadows of the wood in the rear of the cataract, and concealed himself behind a half- detached rock whence he could see the plateau in front of the basin, and near enough to hear anything that might be said unless it was spoken in a whisper. A few minutes before eight o’clock Frank Wil- loughby arrived and began to pace up and down the broad stone platform, while his eyes roamed around throughHhe ghastly vistas among the trees, anxiously alaticipating his sweetheart’s arrival. Eight o’clock arrived and passed. Ten minutes went by, and Willoughby’s impatience broke forth in words. 4< I might have known it,” he mumbled. 4 4 She will not come. Does she then, after all, turn from me to that puppy Vale? Oh, I can hardly believe it, vet — • Sh!” " There was a rustling at*his back, and almost before he could turn, a woman was in his presence. 4 4 Dolly !” * What Nick Saw and Heard. 6 1 “Frank!” “I am so glad you came. Now I can explain my intrusion of the other night. “You certainly owe an explanation. Oh, r ran , how could you be so rude?” “Dolly, I. was deceived. I believed I was coming to you by your own appointment.” “How could you think that?” “Because I received a note which I would have sworn was in your hand, asking me to come to your room that night; telling mo you were in trouble, and must see me. It even pointed out my way by the aid of a ladder placed- at the nursery window by Dolan the gardener.^ “Dolan the gardener? He had been gone two days. “I didn’t know it.” “And you came in through the nursery?'’ “Yes.” “And went out the same way? “I did.” “Then that explains it- all.” “What?” “They believS you carried away Daisy.” ‘ ‘ It was a trap. ’ ’ “But who could forge a -note purporting to come from me?’ “I can think of but one person.” “Who?” “That man Yale.” ' “Ho! no! He did not do it.” The words were spoken impulsively, hurriedly. “Dolly,” cried Willoughby, seizing both her hands. “What is this man Yale to you?” “What do you mean?” He could not see her face very plainly ; but . he felt her hands twitch, and heard the tremble in her voice. 62 What Nick Saw and Heard. “I mean, why are you two so much together? Why do you show such an undue interest in him?’’ “ I deny that I show an undue interest in him/* “But you meet him alone frequently . 5 ’ She remained silent. “Speak! Tell me what it means. The man is a villain. ” ' i' “You do not know. You shall not talk so about him.” “What! You defend him, Miss Meredith? You must tell me why you are so much interested in that fellow Yale.” “What if I refuse?” “You will not.” “But I do.” There was defiance in her tone, and she took several steps backward. “By Heaven, Dolly, this has gone far enough! You must choose between us. Will you marry me to- morrow?” “No.” “Then, when will you place yourself in my keeping for all time?” * “I cannot tell. Maybe never.” “This man Vale is standing in my way,” he hissed. “You promised me, before he came, that you would go with me when I was ready to take you*.” “Bat you were not ready.” “You know why. I had no such home to take you to as that which you would have had to leave. I hesi- tated to ask tho sacrifice of you.” “And you are richer now than then?” “No. But you have met one who can probably give you a more luxurious home than I. If you love his money more than you love me, go to him.” What Nick Saw ana Heard. 63 “I will not stay to be insulted. You will some day come to me and ask my pardon; until then I leave you to your own sense of what is due the woman you profess to love.” Without another word she turned, and in a moment was lost in the blackness of the woods. For a moment Willoughby stood as if dazed. Then he held out his hands and cried : “Dolly, come back! I ” But not even the sound of her footsteps answered him. “Fool that I am to drive her away in that manner, ’Y he muttered, as he turned to leave the trysting spot. His surprise was none greater than Nick’s to see another form — the figure of a taller woman than Miss Meredith — step from behind the huge tiunk of a tree and confront him before he had time to take half a * ' dozen steps. “You here, Mrs. Drexel!” exclaimed he, starting back. “Yes, Mr. Willoughby, lam here; and lam going to have a perfect understanding with you before we part.” Willoughby stood perfectly still for ten seconds with- out making an answer. Then be spoke slowly, as if studying his words: “A perfect understanding with me? About what?” “Several things,” was Mrs. Drexel’s reply. “In the first place, I want to know what you have done with my child?” “You think I abducted your little girl?” “Who else would have had any interest in such a deed? Y"ou entered Maplewood surreptitiously that night. Proofs of your presence in the nursery are plentiful. Besides, you, above all living persons, as the next of kin to my husband, -have an interest in the 64 What Nick Saw and Heard. life of iny child and his heiress. What have you done with her? 55 44 Mrs. Drexel, you cannot believe me capable of such a deed.” r ' “I can believe anything of anybody. My experience with the world has not been such as to convince me that the majority of people are saints. Men and women are all alike. They will all stoop to desperate means to attain the desires of their hearts.” “And would you?” 44 Why not? You know I have done it. I put aside my love for you to marry Drexel and obtain the wealth you had not,” “Bah! Do not speak of that foolish infatuation.” “Foolish infatuation, do you say? It was no foolish infatuation on my part, Frank Willoughby. I loved you then and I love you now.” “Mrs. Drexel, you are mad! 55 4 4 Perhaps 1 am. But there may oe method in my madness. I refused to marry you once, and you found consolation by wedding a song and'dance girl — — ” “I forbid you to speak of her. She is dead and 44 And you are glad of it. You never loved her. It was only an infatuation which ended before she died . 5 y 44 You have no right to say so. If it were true, it was not the only foolish infatuation of my early life.” “What do you mean?” 44 1 mean tbat I loved her better than I ever loved you.” “That is not true, Frank Willoughby.” came the angry retort. 4 4 It is true, Mrs. Drexel. I have never known what • true love was until ” He hesitated, and did not finish the sentence. Mrs. Drexel finished it for him: What Nick Saw and Heard. .. 65 “Until you met Dolly Meredith?” There was a sneer in her voice. Willoughby made no reply, and she went on : “That girl is playing you for a fool.” “These are strange words, Mrs. Drexel. ” “They are not so strange as they are truthful. Has she not convinced you of the fact herself?” “When?” “Just now. Right here on this spot.” “Ah! you were eavesdropping?” “Not eavesdropping — spying, maybe. I was not near enough to hear what passed between you.” “That is a lie, my good woman,” was Nick’s remark to himself. “But I saw your parting,” she added; “and I could see that it was not one of trust or full of loving con- fidence.” - V. 66 Mrs. Drexel’s Bold Play CHAPTER X MRS. DREXEL’S BOLD PLAY. Willoughby bit his lip and remained silent Mrs. Drexel saw her advantage, and made the most of it “She refused to marry you, as I refused eight years ago.” * “You guess that.” “X know it. She refuses for the same reason X did. ” “Indeed!” Willoughby tried to sneer her words into insignifi- cance; but his voice, instead of indicating carelessness, trembled with some half-suppressed emotion. “You are no richer now than you were then. A girl’s love is apt to go up in the balance when gold is weighed against it.” “Madam, vour inferences against Miss Meredith are infamous !” “You know they are true* If they be infamous, she is responsible.” “You cannot make me believe that I am not beloved by Miss Meredith.” “X do not wish to make you believe any such thing. I don’t care whether she loves you or not, so long as I know she will never marry you while you are a money- less man, and while she has the opportunity to marry a man equally as handsome, and at the same time inde- pendently wealthy.” “You mean that fellow Vale?” He hissed the words between his etched teeth. 67 Mrs. “I do.” “He is rich?” “Immensely rich.” “There you put another lie to your credit,” muttered Nick under his breath. “She doesn’t love him.” - “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I only know that she is no fool, and has promised to marry him.” “You know it? How?” “He has confided the secret to me.” “Curse him!” “He has as good a right to woo her as you — ay, better ; for he can give her what every woman has a right to expect from the man she marries — a home and the lux- uries cf life.” “Fool! fool! fool!” muttered the enraged man. “Those words I presume are self applied,” quietly remarked the siren. “I’m glad that you realize your condition. But don’t you think it is time to look after your share of the wealth of this world and quit chasing the thistledown of love’s blossom?” “I hardly follow your meaning, madam.” “Then let me make myself plain. You once loved me.” “I once thought I loved you; but ” “Never mind the ‘but.’ I loved you at that time, and never ceased to love you. Ah ! I see you sneer. You consider these words unwomanly.” “I consider them both unwomanly and wicked. You are a married woman.” “True. But I am likely to be a widow any day.’* “You mean ” “I mean that Drexel is a victim of heart disease. Since Daisy disappeared, he has shown alarming symp- toms, which are growing more serious every hour.” Drexel’s Bold Play 68 Mrs. Drexel’s Bold Play. “His death would not grieve you much, I presume.” “Frankly, it would not. Why should I speak falsely? His death would make me a rich woman.” “Indeed? How?” * “He has made his will, and left me his sole heiress in the event of proofs of the death of his child, Daisy.” “A rather uncertain contingency. ” “Not at all. You know that there is no such uncer- tainty about it.” “Madam !” “Oh! that will do. Reserve your heroics for a more suitable occasion and auditors. If you are not what you called yourself, a while ago — a fool — you will meet me halfway in what I propose.” “What do you propose?” “Promise to marry me the day after Gideon Drexel’s funeral, and I’ll promise to give you outright half of the estate I come into possession of through his will.” “Madam, is this a joke?” * “Ry no means.” “I refuse to listen to your raving.” - He started to move away; but she laid a hand on his arm and said, while her voice trembled: “Stop! I have not played my last card. The day you marry Gideon Drexel’s widow you will get more than wealth.” “Oh, yes; a wife.” “More yet; a daughter.” “What’s this? Another riddle?” “No, sir; nor yet an untruth.” “You are mad — I know it now.” “I know my words sound like the ravings of a mad- woman. But I will soon convince you they are full' of meaning. Your wife died in childbirth. ” “Well.” 6 9 Mrs. Drexel’s Bbld Play. *‘It was reported to yon that the child also died.” He took a step nearer to her. “Ah! you are interested, I see.” “Go on. ” •“The child did not die. It is alive to-day!” “Mrs. Drexel, do not play with , me thus. I beg of you. It would be dangerous.” “I am not in a playful mood. I tell you your daugh- ter lives. The nurse who was with your wife when she died is living. At the request of your dying wife, she concealed your offspring and palmed off the body of a little foundling upon the public, which was buried with the corpse of your dancing bride.” “Is this the tru^h?” “I do not ask you to accept your proof from my lips. Promise to marry me the day after Gideon DrexePs funeral, provided I furnish previous evidence of entire satisfaction to you that your child is living, and can be restored to you, and you shall have such proofs as will be indisputable.” He hesitated some seconds before he made a reply : “I will agree to your proposition, on one additional condition.” “Name it!” “That you prove to me, to my satisfaction, that Miss Meredith is playing me false.” “I will. That condition is easy.” “When will you give me the proof?” “Of what?” “Of her perfidy. ” “When I proveto you the existence of your little daughter— to-morrow night.” “Well!” “Meet me in the library at Maplewood to-morrow night at eleven o’clock. The window on the veranda 70 Mrs. Drexel’s Bold Play. will be open. If I am not there, enter and wait for m& I will produce tangible evidence of your child’s exist- ence and of Miss Meredith’s falsity.” - “I will be there.” “Till then I will say good-night.” Before he realized the act, she threw her arms around his neck, kissed him passionately, and then fled into the darkness of the woods. Willoughby remained as if rooted to the spot for several minutes. Then, without a word or act of dem- onstration be walked slowly into the shadows of the trees and disappeared. Nick lay still for some time after Willoughby had gone, turning over in his mind all the strange things he bad seen and heard since he concealed himself behind that rock. As he was about to slip away into the dark- ness, another surprise met him in the presence of a man who seemed to drop from the skies and suddenly appear upon that starlit plateau. “It’s a regular procession,” muttered Nick. The man stooped and picked up something. It looked like a folded handkerchief. Whatever it was he thrust it into his pocket, and silently disappeared into the depths of the forest — not, however, until Nick had caught a glimpse of the man’s features. “Martin Maloney, the coachman, by all that’s mys- terious!” muttered Nick. “He has other business at Maplewood than attending to Drexel’s horses. I won- der whether the woods have anymore ‘shadows’ to give up?” - He waited five minutes longer and then, satisfied that he wa* entirely alone, he, too, quit the spot. Chick up a Tree. 7 1 CHAPTER XI. \ CHICK UP A THEE. In approaching the house at Maplewood, Nick made a detour and came up in the rear of the stables. His object was to take a passing chance to study the mys- terious hostler. About two hundred yards in the rear of the building Nick halted under a low, bushy tree whose deep shadows w 7 ould conceal him from the view of anybody not in his immediate vicinity. At the same time he could see every object plainly in the starlight for a dis- tance of many rods in every direction. Throwing himself on the ground at the foot of the tree, Nick fixed his gaze upon the stables, and remained silent, staring at the building for five minutes. It was a habit the great detective bad to talk to him- self during periods of hie most perplexing work when- ever he was perfectly satisfied that no ears but his own were within hearing distance. Therefore, as he lounged in the dark shadows of that tree, it was not strange that he fell into communing with himself. 44 What a nest of serpents Gideon Drexel has around him, to be sure. As soon as I recognized Mr. Vale, I naturally hit upon him as the chief conspirator. Now I see I was mistaken. Big a villain as he is, he has more than his match in Mrs. Drexel. 4 4 That woman is a monster of wickedness. . Wil- loughby must know it as well as I. Then how could J.2 Chick up a Tree. he consent to marry her, at any time or under any con- ditions! Have I been deceived by him, after all? Is he unworthy of trust? “Does Miss Meredith know that he was once the lover of Mrs. Drexel? Does she know that he was for- merly married to a dancing girl? Does Drexel know of the love affair between his nephew and his wife years ago? X wish I knew. “Did Mrs. Drexel lie about his child’s existence, as she did about so many other things which she told him to-night? Does she believe he abducted Daisy Drexel, as she pretends? and can it be possible, after all, that he was a party to the crime? “What is Yale’s secret power over Mrs.. Drexel and over Dolly Meredith? -Who is Martin Maloney, and what is his game? 1 have my theories in all these puz- zles, and I’ll prove or disprove them before I’m here two days more.” “Perhaps I can help you.” These words came to the ears ot the dumfounded detective like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. An or- dinary man under such a startling surprise, would have sprung to his feet, or at least glanced hastily airound. Nick did neither. He remained as if he had heard nothing; but' his eyes were rolling in his head from side to side, and his thoughts were very much alive. Where did the words come from? They were spoken near to him, because they were uttered in a subdued tone, and yet were startlingly distinct. It took a few moments to convince him that this un- known companion was concealed overhead in the thick branches of the tree. In a few seconds more he had made up his mind that the spokesman was his assistant, Chick, who, for some reason, had changed the natural tone of his voice,, Chick up a Tree. 73 Once satisfied on that point, he said, in an equally well-modulated tone, and without looking up : “Is that you, Chick?” “Yes. I’m up a tree.” “What in the world are you doing there?” “I’ve been eavesdropping.’ “On whom?” “Vale and Miss Meredith. I hadn’t time to get down until I saw you approaching, so I lay low; and it’s lucky I did.” “Why?” “I’ve got lots to tell, and this is better than climbing into your room by use of a rope ladder after midnight.” “That’s so. But tell me how you happnened to get into this tree to eavesdrop.” “I noticed it was a favorite meeting-place for Vale and Miss Meredith, and took the chances on their com- ing here to-night.” “And the chances panned out?” “Yes; though she was late, it seems, and he almost failed to wait long enough. When she did put in an appearance the interview didn’t last long.” “Why?” “Well, it appears he was thereat her request, and he w r as angry that he had to wait.” “Well, what did: you hear?” “Enough to convince me that Miss Meredith is very solicitous about Vale’s safety.” * 4 Why?” “She urged him to go away at once, before it became too late; said he was already suspected, and would surely be arrested if he stayed much longer.” “ Whali reply did he make? 5 ’' “Ho only I vngked at her fears, and said he was able to take cam cf himself.” 74 Chick up a Tree. “Is that all?” “No. He finally agreed to go away and not return, if she would get a thousand dollars for him.” “ What did she say?” “At first she called his request a mad one, and spoke of the impossibility of complying with it. He said it meant that much money or he would dare everything to the end.” “Well! Then what?” “After a good deal of general talk she agreed to try, within a day or two, to get the money for him.” “What do you make of this man, Chick?” “He is a relative who has committed some crime.” “A pretty good guess.” “Is there such a person?” “Yes; Miss Meredith has a brother who has been a fugitive from justice since he was a boy.” “For what cause?” “Accused of killing a man in a quarrel.” “And this is the brother here under an assumed name?” “No. This is some one who is impersonating that brother for a purpose.” “ What purpose?’ ’ “I’m not quite ready to answer that question.” “Nick?” “Well!” “You know this Yale?” “Like my A B C’s,” “Who is he?” “I’ll tell you when we have more time. You said to-day you had news for me. That was before you overheard this conversation between Vale and Dolly Meredith.” 75 Chick up a Tree. “Well, what is it?” j “The coachman is doing some detective work on his own accord. “Ah. Tell me about it.” “He is shadowing Mr. Yale.” * • ' v * • ? [• “You are sure?” tr “Yes. And he’s in love with Miss Meredith.” “What makes you think so?” “I saw him pick up a handkerchief which she dropped. When no one was looking, as he thought, he kissed it and his eyes filled with tears. Every look he gives her is full of love.” “Martin Maloney must be making a collection of handkerchiefs. I saw him gather up another one to- night.” “Of Miss Meredith’s?” “No. And he didn’t press his lips to this one. If his eyes filled with anything it wasn’t tears.” “Then Ida sends you news.” “Ah, yes! What has Ida to report?” “Mr . Drexel bad a visitor this afternoon.” “A man?” , f “A woman.” “Well?” “An elderly woman — one she wasn’t expecting and who seemed to be a stranger.” “Goon.” “A strange thing about this visitor was the fact that she was closely veiled, and no one saw her face, unless it was Mrs. Drexel in her own room.” “How did she gain admission to madam’s presence?” “By means of a sealed note which she sent up by Ida.” “Stay long?” “Half an hour. ” j6 Chick up a Tree. # ' v * ^ - “What did Ida hear?” A , “Not a word. But she saw how pal© Mrs. Drexel ’s face was after the woman left. She also saw the veiled woman whisper something into the ear of Mrs. Storms as she passed her in the hall, and saw Mrs. Storms stare after the departing visitor.’ ’ “Very mysterious.” “Who do you think she was?” “I don’t know. We must find out.” “Have you no theory about her?’* “Oh, yes. She brought Mrs. Drexel some valuable information.” “How do you know?” “I heard Mrs. Drexel repeat the information.” “To whom.” “To another interested party,” “What was it?” “The existence of a child which was supposed to be dead.” “Not Daisy Drexel?” “Oh, no! That is, I don’t know.” “You’re not very definite in your answer.” “Well, I’m not quite sure of my facts yet. Keep your eyes and ears open and we’ll get everything nicely worked out in good time. Lie low for a while, after I shall have gone to the house.” Before Nick went, however, he related to Chick the adventure at the copse in the rear of the arbor, and ended by saying: “Now I want you to keep a close watch upon this man Vale. If we run him down, we will fulfill all our purpose.” ^ The Conspirators at Work. 77 CHAPTER XII. THE CONSPIRATORS AT WORK IN NICK’S ROOM. It was ten o’clock when Nick ascended the steps at Maplewood and entered the house. There was a light in the lower hall; but he noticed that the upper part of the house was dark. /While he was placing his hat on the hall rack, a noise at the head of the stairs attracted his attention. It was the careful closing of a door, followed by the rustle of a woman’s skirts. “Somebody has just left my room; and it was a woman, too,” mentally observed the detective. Finding no one on the veranda or in the parlor, he ascended to his room and soon had a light. The lirst object which claimed his attention was a small leather trunk which had arrived and been placed at the foot of the bed since he left the house after dinner. “Ah! The trunk has come,” he muttered. “Mrs. Carter lost no time in answering my dispatch.” He stooped, and by the use of a small magnifying glass examined the lock. “As I expected,” he chuckled. “They have tried to pick the lock. Well, that fellow is an expert in the business; but when he succeeds in opening one of Nick Carter’s trunks he can take out his diploma.” Nick’s next move was to close and lock his door, push a chair before the keyhole, and carefully draw the window blinds. Then he picked up his green bag 78 The Conspirator^ at Work. from the table, opened it, and drew out a large sealed envelope. One close, scrutinizing look was sufficient for his pur- pose. “As I expected again. This time they succeeded, as I desired they should. The envelope has been opened and resealed. I wonder what they have clone with the contents?'’ Taking from his pocket a peculiar-shaped key, he un- locked the small trunk, from which he took a vial filled with a colorless fluid. Some of this he applied to the envelope, after which it opened without further effort and without breaking or marring the edges. Nick drew out the inclosure and examined it. “So! Blank paper instead of the supposed will. I would like to know what they thought when they dis- covered the real meaning of its conteijts. I imagine the conspirators are somewhat puzzled over the affair. They must not suspect, however, that I know" this en- velope has been tampered with.” Thereupon Nick replaced the sheet of blank paper and carefully resealed the envelope. A close scrutiny assured him that his work had been more artistically done than their tampering which preceded it. He felt sure no one would suspect that the envelope had been opened the second time. Then he put the sealed package back into the silk bag, made a few alterations in his toilet, and went downstairs. On the veranda he met Mrs. Drexel in the apparent act of entering the house. Mrs. Storms was busy clos- ing windows and fastening shutters. “Oh, Mr. Vernon! Is it you?” exclaimed the mis- tress of Maplewood. “We have missed you this even- ing. W here have you been?” 79 The Conspirators at Work. . v “I am almost ashamed to tell you that I took a stroll after dinner through the woods, and, finding a secluded —spot, I sat down and fell asleep.” “In the woods?” , - “Yes. I came upon a most romantic spot down yon- der — a regular fairies’ deli — cascade, huge trees, moss- covered rocks, starlit plateau, and all that. It must be enchanted, too.” He saw that his words had a startling effect upon her, which she could not conceal from his keen professional eye even in the thick darkness where they stood. 8o Relating- a Dream* CHAPTER XIII. RELATING A DREAM. When the mistress of Maplewood again spoke to the detective, there was a shade of imnaturalness in her tones. “How romantic! Did the fairies attend yon in your sleep?’’ ') “Indeed they did; or I may have dreamed it.” .“What?” “It is too absurd to talk about. You’ll laugh at me if I relate my dream.” “Oh, no! Dreams are sometimes prophetic, and should not be scoffed at.” # “Rut you were a prominent figure in this woodland vision of mine.” “I? How strange. Tell me about it.” “I thought you met a handsome young man on that plateau, and made violent love to him.” She affected a laugh, but it was so unnatural that she cut it off short, and, as if at a loss for words in reply, asked : “And, pray, who was my handsome young lover?” “One of the fairies, probably. Unfortunately, dreams are so unsatisfactory as to details. I suddenly awoke to find ” /“Well?” “Neither you nor your gallant lover of my dream there. ’ ’ “Too bad!” Relating a Dream. 81 “Instead of the couple of my dreams* one very ordi- nary, everyday sorirof person occupied the plateau.” “Oh! then the dream had a real foundation?” “Yes.” ' / “And who was the person whose presence so wrought upon your sleeping fancy?” “Your coachman, Martin Maloney.” “What!” The word was uttered in a startled tone. She immediately controlled herself, and added, with a pretense of indifference: “Why, what could he be doing there at that hour? Was he alone?” “Yes. Before I could make myself known, he picked up something from the plateau, thrust it into his pocket and disappeared.” “Picked up something? What was it?” In spite of a supreme effort to appear unconcerned, her voice trembled. “I couldn’t see distinctly; but it was something white— looked like a woman’s handkerchief,” Mrs. Drexel, in spite of all she could do, uttered a half-suppressed scream. Nick stepped close to her, and solicitiously inquired : “Are you ill?” “No, no! A horrid bat flew so close to my face I was frightened. I think I will retire.” “It is getting late, and I, too, will go to my room,” “After your nap in the woods I fear your sleep at Maplewood will not be refreshing,” she laughingly remarked. “Not if it is accompanied with such ridiculous dreams . 5 ’ “Let me hope your slumbers for the rest of the night may be less mischievous and more conducive to health Mr. Vernon.” 82 Relating a Dream. Nick bowed as she swept past, and ascended the stairs. r “No use beating about the bush too long , 55 thought Nick, as he watched her retreating figure. “I’ll help them reach the end of their rope by directing their plot- ting minds to m3 T own person. Ah! Another piece of good luck! Madam’s room is directly across the hall from mine. New, if this night doesn’t furnish more de- velopments of a rather startling nature, I shall be dis- appointed.” He spoke to Mary Storms just as Mrs. Drexel entered her room and closed the door. “Has Mr. Drexel retired?” “Yes, sir. He went to his room early, complaining of not feeling at all well.” “No wonder. The absence of his child is a great grief, I think.” “’Deed it is, sir. And with his heart trouble I am afraid the result will be very serious.” “Let us hope not, Mrs. Storms. Where are the rest of the family?” ^ f ^ “Miss Dolly retired half an hour ago.” "“And Mr. — er — Vale?” % “Oh, he does not stay here!” ‘ ^ “No? I thought he was a guest.” “Not at all; only a daily visitor. I believe he boards at the hotel near the railroad station.” “Well, I see you are closing the house, and I’ll not detain you. Good -night.” So saying, Nick slowly mounted the stairs, entered his room, closed the door rather noisily, and shot the bolt so that the sound was distinctly heard all over the upper part of the house. For half an hour more he busied himself, as any guest would, in preparing for bed. His watch was Relating a Dream; 83 ■.Vi # wound, and placed under the pillow, together with his pocketbook; clothing was carefully removed and hung up; a gape occasionally accompanied the work. At a certain stage in the prpceedings he poured water from the pitcher into the washbowl, and bathed his face and neck without any attempt to be quiet. In emptying the water from the bowl there was a rather heavy contact between the two vessels, and the ringing sound could plainly be heard by any one who might be in the next room, or inthe hall. Finally he extinguished the light, and went to bed as if he anticipated no disturbance to peaceful slumber for the rest of the night. After executing a few yawns he became quiet. But neither ear pressed the pillow. The head of the bed stood against the wall between the room and hall, and every chord of the detective’s wonderful sense of hear- ing was strained to catch sounds which the ordinary ear could not detect. In about a quarter of an hour his patience was re- warded. That which he heard assured him somebody had opened the door of the opposite room, come out into the hall, carefully closed and locked the door, and descended the stairs, after stopping to listen a few moments at Nick’s door. During these few moments the detective’s breathing became deep and regular. Satisfied that the person, whoever it was, had de- scended the stairs, Nick almost noiselessly arose and hastily began to make a toilet. He didn’t don the clothes he had just before taken off, but selected his ap- parel from the leather trunk by the aid of a bull’s-eye lantern. In “making up” he used a large clothes closet, where he had the help of a hand -mirror and his dark lantern. When he was ready for further business it was an 8 4 Relating a Dream. almost exact image of Clinton Yale, which stopped at his room door and listened intently for fully a minute. The door was then opened slowly, and without noise. Rick’s head gradually protruded into the hall. Then his whole body emerged. He closed and locked the door behind him. To cross the hall was the work of four soundless steps. Again he stepped to listen. Then he turned the knob of the door and bore against it. There was no satisfactory result; In a moment a skeleton key turned the bolt in the lock, and a moment later Rick was inside Mrs. DrexeFs room. He closed and locked this door behind him also, and crossed the room to the open window. “Pil just see what the prospect from this window is, and what are the chances of reaching the ground from it,” he muttered. “My window over there will be watched, and from it I’d have positively no prospect. Let me take a peep.” He approached the window carefully, and looked down. The veranda porch was not four feet below the window sill. 4 4 There are vines orr^tW south end of the veranda, and descent is made easy. PIT Ha!” He drew back a little into the shadows. A man’s head was slowly raising itself above the railing of the veranda roof. The man’s body followed, and in less than five seconds the midnight marauder was crawling like a snake toward the open window. “Martin Maloney, as I am a sinner,” was Nick’s mental expression. “Row, what does he, of all men, want in my lady’s chamber?” Rick had just time to conceal himself behind a pair of portieres when the coachman’s head appeared abcv^ the window s !' . "A Burglarious Proceeding. • 85 CHAPTER XIY. A BURGLARIOUS PROCEEDING, There was not the least hesitation about the hostler’s action after his face appeared at Mrs. Drexel’s' window. With the ease and grace of an acrobat, he leaped into the room. Immediately he turned and gazed long and searchingly backward into the space outside. 4 ‘He knows that Mrs. Drexel is absent; he fears no discovery from within, but is not so certain of his safety from prying eyes without, 5 ’ were Nick’s conclusions. Becoming satisfied that his entrance had not been ob- served, Maloney moved across the room and began a rapid examination of everything which the dresser con- tained. To Nick’s no small astonishment he produced a dark lantern and a bunch of skeleton keys, with which he proceeded expeditiously and rapidly to “go through’* Mrs. Drexel’s dresser with a skill which was little short of professional. The man’s work was watched by Nick with the greatest interest. Was he a professional burglar, or \ a rival detective? That was the question Nick tried to answer for himself while he watched the mysterious person at his strange work. Drawer after drawer was opened, searched with a thorough skill, which the detective was forced to ad- mire*, and left without a trace of the intruding hands'. In the very last drawer Maloney found what he was searching for, a fact which he attested by the faintest kind of ejaculation of satisfaction. 86 A Burglarious Proceeding. It was a lady’s portemonnaie, which the hostler fished out from under a pile of small clothes in the rear of the drawer. The exclamation indicative of success was not made until he had opened the portemonnaie, and taken therefrom part of its contents. The first items of interest to him among the contents were two photographs, which he examined with marks of intense satisfaction. - A plain white card dropped from between the photo- graphs as he took them apart. After he had examined the portraits to his full satisfaction, Maloney picked up the card and was about to replace it in its former posi- tion when something on its face attracted his attention. Having examined it by the aid of his dark lantern, the hostler took a pencil and tablet from his pocket and ap- peared to copy that which the card contained. This evidently completed his stealthy mission, for he hastily restored card and photographs to the porte- monnaie. But before he replaced the latter in its hid- ing place he took something from an inside pocket, and carefully laid it with the other contents. Then the portemonnaie was restored to the place where he found it. He hurriedly locked the drawer, turned off the light from his lantern, and left the room the way he came, without noise, and apparently without fear of detection. Convinced that the coast was clear, Nick emerged from his stuffy hiding-place, and lost no time in getting that mysterious pocket book in his hands. His first object, of course, was to examine the two photographs. One was the portrait of a youth who might have been fifteen or sixteen years old. The second was that of a young man of about twenty. ^Both were of the same person at different ages, as could be plainly seen l ^l resemblance of the feature^ • ) - I I'M r A Burglarious Proceeding. if 87 “I wonder what it all means?” mused Nick, as he looked first at one and then at the other. ‘ ‘ W hat is Mrs. Drexel doing with these? Whose likenesses are they, and what interest has the pseudo hostler in them. Nick was about to replace the photos when something in the likeness of the younger face attracted his atten- tion. He looked closely at it, and then scrutinized the oti h or “Ah! that is more interesting,” he muttered. , That which he almost overlooked at first was a small cross-shaped scar high upon the forehead. The hair was cut short, and brushed back in both pictures, so that the peculiar scar was plainly discernible. “That scar identifies the photographs. But bow did they come into the possession of Mrs. Drexel? Does she know that their original— Clyde Van Dyke and Clinton Vale— are one and the same person? ^ Has sne ever seen that scar which Van Dyke, alias Vale, con- ceals with his long dyed bangs?” . Remembering the hostler’s interest in the card, Nick also made an examination of its contents. There were two addresses written thereon in the same hand a woman’s writing, without doubt. They were as follows : ‘ < No. — East Eighteenth Street.” “No. — Second Avenue.” “Might as well have them on my list,” soliloquized Nick. “They mean something, and I’ll have to find out. what.” • The card and photographs were restored to the porte- monnaie, and then Nick drew out that which Maloney had placed there after taking it from an inside pocket. It was a square white envelope, addressed simply to “Mr. Clinton Vale,” in the same hand which had writ- ten the double address on the card. It was sealed ; but THAU 51. 1 A Burglarious Proceeding. a close scrutiny of the face convinced Nick that it bad been deftly opened and skillfully resealed beyond the ordinary power of detection. I see it plainly now. inis is what Maloney picked up on the plateau which I thought was Mrs. Drexel’s handkerchief. Maloney knows what the contents are. They probably guided him to these photographs. But why did he put the letter in here with the other con- tents? Ah! Perhaps to try to convince Mrs. Drexel tha^ she never lost it, but put it here herself by mistake. ‘"Well, if Maloney only knew about my conversation with Mrs. Drexel on the veranda this evening he would not have made this mistake. I’ll save him from the • folly of his blunder.” So saving, Nick put the letter into his own pocket, and then locked the portemonnaie in its hiding-place! Before he had time to rise from his knees a very faint noise at the door startled him. Without losing a moment of time the detective closed the slide to his lantern, and in a moment was once more behind the portieres. He tvas just in time. The door opened noiselessly, and Mrs. Drexel entered. A moment later she had struck a light. ■ ' At the same moment Nick heard the patter of rain on the veranda roof. Something cold rubbed against his face, and a peculiar odor struck upon his sense of smelk A ho can explain how these three senses of hearing, feeling and ^smelling came together like a flash and brought to Nick a sense of the extreme peril of his situ- ation. . ? This is what shot throug’h his mind. “Her mackintosh bangs at my back. A rain has suddenly come up, and she has returned for the water- proof wrap.” 4 * The Arbor Again. H r i?-/ a l s IV 89 CHAPTER XV. THE ARBOR AGAIN. While Nick remained motionless in his hiding- plac© s expecting every ‘instant to see Mrs. Drexei come direct to the portieres, ho kept her every movement covered by means of a small opening between the curtains. His astonishment was no less great than satisfactory to see her go toward her dresser instead, and having unlocked that particular drawer take therefrom the same interesting portemonniae. Without opening it she thrust the purse into her pocket, and relocked the drawer. Then what Nick feared occurred. She started across the room directly toward him. When within reach of the curtain she stopped and turned her face toward the hall door. Then she pulled out her watch and consulted its hands. “I have time, and must make sure that the drug worked, ” she mumbled. iC I am sure I heard him take a drink from the pitcher before he went to bed.” Nick’s flesh crept as he heard these words; for he re- membered that on entering his room he had found a pitcher of ice water, from which he had drank freely just before retiring, without any suspicion of its im- purity. Some good fortune had saved him, but what it was he did not know. Suddenly a thought flashed through his mind. .90 i ) : \m • • The Arbor Again. “Ah ! J forgot Ida. It is dollars to cents that the blundering Katrine saved me,” was the thought. Mrs. Drexel had turned, and was tiptoeing her way into the hall. She stopped at the door of Nick’s room and listened. Then she took hold of the knob, and turned it without noise. Having-convinced herself that the door was locked she looked up toward the transom. It was closed. Returning to her own room she picked up a small, light table, carried it across the hall, and set it under the transom. Then she returned for a chair to be used as a stepping convenience. In five seconds more she would have her head on a level with the transom. It would take but one instant then for her to discover that the guest whom she sus- pected and feared was not sleeping in there under the effect of her drug, but was, indeed, not in the room at all. Nick realized that his situation was growing more precarious all the time, and he must act immediately. In her careful ascent to the table top her back was turned toward her own room. Nick saw his only op- portunity for escape, and accepted it. Stealthily but swiftly he crossed to the open window. Just as Mrs. Drexel was straightening herself upon the table, Nick dropped almost noiselessly upon the roof of the veranda. By the time Mrs. Drexel brought herself to a terrified realization that the mysterious lawyer, instead of being drugged, was not even in his bed, Nick was on the ground working his way carefully around to the front of the house. Once there he lost no time in concealing himself be- hind the trunk of an immense maple, which stood about two hundred feet from the hall door. c o(\ The Arbor Again. l ft 111; 9 1 “If she is coming out again she will surely leave the? house bj 7 the front or side entrance. I am now ih posi- tion to watch both doors,” said he to his second self. “That she intends to meet some one was shown by her inquiry as to the time of night before she made that transom exploration. I w r onder who she is to meet? Yale, without doubt. But where? I’d give a neat sum to know, so that I might be in hearing distance. There w 7 ill be some very interesting conversation between the precious couple this time, I’ll warrant.” His thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the side door, and the appearance of Mrs. Drexel clad in the mackintosh which had almost been the means of trap- ping him. The mistress of Maplewood plunged fear- lessly into the falling rain, and directed her stepe toward the arbor on the edge of the wood w 7 here Nick had had his queer experience with the rabbit. “Idiot that you are, Nick Carter,” muttered the de- tective, as be watched the woman’s retreating figure, “You might have known that the tryst would be there, and had your w r its not been napping you would even now be ensconced in the copse. It is too late now 7 .” He moved around in the shadow of the trees on the lawn, until he could command a view of the arbor, which was faintly visible at some distance. Mrs. Drexel was the first to reach the arbor. Shortly after her arrival the figure of a man came out of the' woods near by, and also disappeared in the arbor. “The two conspirators are together,” w T as what Nick said to himself; “and I am outside the breastworks. All I can do is to wait and wateb.” Feeling anything but pleased with himself, Nick sat down at the foot of a tree and, riveting his eyes upon the outlines of the distant arbor, tried to imagine w hat that designing couple were saying to each other. p j np pwip , „ jp i The Arbor Again. The noise of the rain pattaring on the leaves overhead killed the sound of light footsteps which approached him from the rear ; and when a hand fell gently on his shoulder he came nearer losing self-control than ever in his whole eventful life. Before he had time to turn his head, a soft voice whispered “Brother!” Then he remembered his dis- guise, and the truth flashed upon him. It was Dolly Meredith, and she had mistaken him for Yale. “I saw you from my window hovering around the house, and terror has brought me out to you at this un- seemly hour. Oh ! brother, why do you act so strangely? For my sake, if not for your own, go away at once be- fore you are discovered.” “She believes that man is her fugitive brother. That is the secret of his power over her,” was Nick’s rapid conclusions. “Well, I’ll play his part just this once.” Imitating Vale’s voice, Nick said in a surly tone, without raising his head : “Go away, indeed! That is easy for you to say. But what will I go away on? I told you I would go if you’d give me a thousand dollars.” “And will you really goflf I give you that sum?” “Yes; I promise that you s will never again see your unfortunate brother after the daj r you hand me that amount.” 4 4 “Then do not delay an hour,” she said, thrusting a roll of something like paper into his hands. “There is the amount. You’ll find it does not lack a dollar of the sum named. Go; and Heaven bless and save vou!” Nick experienced a mean feeling as the girl threw her arms about his neck, and affectionately kissed him several times. j j j- jj 1 1 y . ^ 'I H i 1 J 1 The Arbor Again. 93 $ € 'For tbe sake of our dead mother, try to redeem your life,” she sobbed. “ Where did you get this money?” asked Nick, with* out offering to return one mark of her sisterly affection. She arose, and stepped back before . she replied, in a voice free from the tearful emotion which filled it but a moment before: “It is not necessary for you to know. You have the money. I have your promise. Good-by, and Heaven guard you.” ' ** She turned and fled to the house. Nick arose, and moved away, but was careful not to lose sight of the arbor, nor yet to leave the shadow of the trees on the lawn. When convinced that he was out of sight of any one in Maplewood, he again sat down and waited. ( It was nearly dawn when Mrs. Drexel returned .to the house, and her co-conspirator struck off into the woods on his return to the hotel at the station. Nick sat still for some time after Mrs. Drexel disap- peared within the doors at Maplewood. His eyes were glued on the arbor, and his mind was busy laying out his plans for the future. Something which he never could explain at last caused him to turn his eyes to the left, just in time to see the figure of a man enter the shadows of a clump of trees on the lawn about ten rods below where he sat. “It is Karl Koenig — Chick!” was Nick’s joyful con- clusion. “I’ll head him off, and find out what he has been up to.” Without losing any time, he arose and bent his steps hastily in a direction which would be sure to intercept his assistant. His calculations were so true that a col- lision was almost the result. Chick was startled.. He had seen Yale d e P a H in an / '! !' ! f i'f ‘ 1 1 r it 1 1 ■ ■ • * ’ 1 1 I ■■ h ,*« I 1 f , I » .$ 94 The Arbor Again. entirely opposite direction, and it was a mystery to him how the man had managed to run across his path at this remote point. Nick, however, relieved his puzzled and troubled mind with a 'word. “Chick,” “Thunder! Is it you, Nick?” “Yes. Where have you been?” “In that rabbit hole under the copse behind the arbor ouf yonder.” “Chick! You don’t mean you heard all that passed (between Mrs. Drexel and Yale just now”’ “Don’t I though! And say, Nick, it’s a ten strike- pure gold a foot thick.” “Chick,” said Nic&, grasping the young man’s hand; “you are yourself all gold, nearly six feet high,” 95 ( r. h M 1 fl , I 1 Which Ends in a T ra ^edy. CHAPTER XVI. WHICH ENDS IN A TRAGEDY. Chick accepted his superiors compliment without the least show of vanity. “How did it happen that you were hidden in that copse at the ,very time it did the most good?” was Nick’s next inquiry. “To be there when Yale met Mrs. Drexel. It was lucky you told me about the hiding-place, else X might not have succeeded in the work.” “Yes! yes! But how did you know about the meet* ing in advance?” “I carried Mrs. Drexel’s note to Vale.” “To-night?” “Yes. She awakened xne just before midnight and asked me to take a note to Mr. Vale at his hotel. I got a ten-dollar bill to plaster up my mouth.” Chick chuckled and Nick smiled. “Of course you opened and read the note?” “Need you ask?” “Well! What did it say?” “It demanded an interview in the arbor at one o’clock. To make sure he would not fail to come, she used these words underscored! “ 6 You have had me in your power till to-night. I now know your past as well as you know it yourself, and will show you proofs of my knowledge. I could send you to State prison and maybe farther; but I have no Uesire to declare war unless you force me. It will 96 Which Ends in a Tragedy. be far better for us both to remain allies. But we must come to a perfect understanding io-night. Fail to come on peril of your liberty if not of your life. * ” “You have a good memory, my boy.” .“It is part of the business you have always taught me.” “True. Now tell me what happened when they met. ” “Mrs. Drexel was the first to arrive, but she had not long to wait. Yale arrived five minutes later, coming by way of the woods. ^ “‘What does this mean, Helen?’ were his first words; and I imagine a frown marred his features. 1 “ ‘It means, Clyde Van Dyke, that you no longer have a monopoly of secrets ; and I’ll thank you hereafter to be less familiar, and address me as Mrs. Drexel.’ “He did not answer at once. It seemed to me he was delaying while he gained control of his voice. When he spoke his voice was very even and placid : “ ‘You call me by a name I do not bear.’ “ ‘Not now. You have good reason to drop it, Clyde Yan Dyke. But it once belonged to you, and you can no more deny it than you can deny that scar under your dyed hair!’ “He sprang toward her and fairly hissed: “ ‘Death, woman! Do you know what you are say- ing?’ j “Mrs. Drexel stepped back before his murderous wrath, but lost no time in warning him : “ ‘The worst thing you can do for your future wel- fare is to lay your hands on me in violence. Do you think I am so crazy as to beard you alone at dead of night and confront you with a secret, to preserve which you would not hesitate at murder, unless I was prepared J to guard myself ?* Which Ends in a Tragedy. 97 “ ‘And what is to prevent my killing you here and stilling your meddlesome tongue?' “ l What? Why, the knowledge that the party from whom I got my information of your past is alive and safe from your reach; the kno wedge that any harm which might come from you to me would be avenged before you could get your guilty head into hiding.’ “ ‘Who is this — this informant?’ “ ‘You might guess.’ “ ‘But one person is alive who could tell you what you have told me.’ “ ‘You mean Mrs. Storms, your mother?’ “ ‘Yes. I cannot believe, however, that she has be- trayed me.’ “ ‘ Rest easy on that point. Your charming parent has betrayed no one but me, who trusted and believed in her as a Christian trusts the Savior. ’ “ ‘But she and I were the only living persons who held that secret. ’ “ ‘There was another, ye£rs ago.’ “ ‘She died before her lips had a chance to give away our secret. ’ • “ ‘You thought so. She is alive, however, to-day.’ “ ‘I don’t believe it. I saw her dead in her coffin, and the coffin covered by six feet of earth.’ “ ‘From which she was restored to life as by a mira- cle, and afterward kept in concealment.’ “ ‘A likely story.’ “ ‘I can prove it to your eminent satisfaction.’ “ ‘Well, try it.’ “ ‘At the time of her supposed death she possessed two photographs of you—one taken at the age of six- teen, just before she became possessed of your first vital secret; the other taken at the age of twenty-one when she forced you to make her j^our wife.’ 98 - Which Ends in a Tragedy. “ ‘Well?’ “ ‘When she uied, as you supposed, those photo- graphs could not be found. They are here.’ “Mrs. Drexel took something from her pocket and handed it to him. “Whatever it was it caused him to utter a half-sup- pressed oath. “ ‘Where did you get these ? 5 “ ‘From the woman you believed to be in her grave, with your secret buried in her coffin — from your wronged wife . 5 “ ‘And if I believe all you have told me, what then? What do you propose to do about it ? 5 “ ‘Now you are talking sense. I propose to disar- range your plans somewhat, and advance my own to a certain extent . 5 “‘Humph! Goon! I am listening . 5 “ ‘In the first place, our marriage, so kindly arranged by you to take place after DrexePs death, is off . 5 “ ‘You have reconsidered your plan of becoming a widow since your husband’s deception of the will was discovered. Is that it ? 5 “ ‘That is not it. X have not reconsidered my de- termination to be Gideon DrexePs widow, and that right speedil3 r . * Therefore I shall need your co-opera- tion . 5 “ ‘The will I was forging when your note came to- night— that is to be finished ? 5 “ ‘No. I need that no more than I need you as a second husband . 5 “ ‘You do not intend to surrender the estate? You hope to get control of it through the child ? 5 “ ‘Wrong again. You know, as I know, that such a scheme is impossible. And I now understand tho source of your information regarding that secret . 5 99 Which Ends in a Tragedy. “ ‘Well, be kind enough to lay your plans before me without an accompaniment of riddles. You will pro- ceed with the plan to make yourself Gideon Drexers widow, knowing full well there is no will, and know- ing further that Daisy Drexel is not Gideon Drexel’s heir-at-law. Now, how do you propose to get hold of Gideon Drexel’s millions?’ “ ‘By marrying the heir-at-law.’ “ ‘Not Frank Willoughby?’ “ ‘Yes; Frank Willoughby.’ “ ‘Bah! He is dead in love with Miss Meredith.’ “ ‘Your supposed sister. You see I know your hold over her, too. ’ ‘Well! \ ou seem to be better informed than you were yesterday. So you will marry Willoughby, How will you manage it?’ “ ‘Easily enough, with your help.’ “ ‘Oh! Fm to help to marry the woman I love to a man who does not love her,’ sneered Yale. ‘ What if I refuse?’ ‘You’ll not refuse. There are worse things you can do for yourself than that.’ “‘Well; what am I to do?’ - “ ‘Make Willoughby believe you are Miss Meredith’s favored lover, and then take her away for a week im- mediately after Mr. Drexel’s death.’ “ ‘Is that all?’ ‘Yes. And with your power over her it is quite easy to do. ’ ‘Good! Now’ where do I come in as a beneficiary of this pretty scheme? Or am I to work for love and other considerations?’