It was all perfectly true from Nick Carter’s standpoint, but the detective himself would not have put it in that way, or boasted of it at all.
“Of course, you may confide in me or not, as you please,” Green Eye continued, warming up as he gained self-confidence.
“Tut-tut!” ejaculated Griswold, with a somewhat pained expression. He had come, with reason, to believe that wealth would buy anything, and he was not quite prepared for this show of indifference. “I meant no offense, Mr. Carter, you may be sure. As I said, though, this is a very ticklish business——”
“We’ll take that for granted,” Gordon quietly interrupted. “Were you going to give me the details, Mr. Griswold?”
His cool, almost insolent tone gave no hint of the turmoil of impatience raging within.
What was he about to hear, and what use would he make of it—in other words, how much could he make it yield him in cold, hard cash, or crackling bank notes?
CHAPTER VIII.
THE ABSCONDING TREASURER.
For a time it looked as if the millionaire newspaper proprietor meant to resent the supposed detective’s effrontery in some way, but he managed to swallow his wrath, and, after reseating himself and angrily fingering his watch chain, got down to business.