He had a plan, when he presented himself at Nick’s door, but it was lacking in many details, for these he had decided to leave to the inspiration of the moment. In any case, however, he meant to palm himself off as a would-be client, and, having thus gained the detective’s confidence, to proceed with the rest of the scheme, or some modification of it.
“Is Mr. Carter in?” he asked anxiously, when the butler opened the door.
“No, sir,” the servant replied, noting with approval the visitor’s apparent prosperity and air of importance. “Mr. Carter is out of town at present.”
“Is it possible? For how long?”
“He went away day before yesterday, and expected to be absent for two weeks.”
“How unfortunate! I have a case of the utmost importance—the sort of thing no one else can handle,” the caller said, with the semblance of profound disappointment. “One of his assistants might help me to some extent, however, or bring the matter to Mr. Carter’s attention by telegraph.”
Again the butler shook his head regretfully. He was being very indiscreet, but he did not suspect it for a moment, owing to the impression the stranger made upon him.
“I’m afraid that’s out of the question, too, sir,” he answered. “There is no one at home who could attend to you. It’s the first time it has happened in years.”
The stranger seemed greatly distressed.
“This is terrible!” he cried. “I don’t know what I shall do if I can’t get hold of Mr. Carter. I would be very sorry to break up his vacation, but I’m sure if he knew the circumstances, he would not hesitate for a moment. Some very prominent people are involved, and, unless something is done speedily, there will be nothing short of a national scandal. Surely, you will give me Mr. Carter’s address, will you not?”