[Pg 1]

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HALF A MILLION RANSOM;
Or, NICK CARTER AND THE NEEDY NINE.

Edited by CHICKERING CARTER.

[Pg 2]

CHAPTER I.
THE WOMAN WHO FAINTED.

Nick Carter caught sight of the couple only by chance. His touring car, in which he was seated with his chauffeur and Patsy Garvan, his junior assistant, was speeding through one of the winding driveways in Central Park, New York, and heading for Fifty-ninth Street.

“Hold on! Slow down, Danny!” he cried to his chauffeur. “That woman has fainted, or is in a fit.”

The woman was lying on the greensward near a diverging driveway, and some fifty yards from where Danny Maloney, startled by the detective’s sudden sharp commands, brought the touring car to a quick stop.

A girl in a white apron and a starched linen cap was bending over the woman and gazing around affrightedly, uncertain what to do. Seeing the car stop and the detectives alighting, she suppressed a scream for help and awaited their approach.

“She is down and out, chief, for fair,” said Patsy, while they ran toward the couple.

“Fainted, most likely,” said Nick tersely. “If more serious, we’ll rush her to the nearest physician, or call an ambulance.”

“By Jove, she’s getting up!” cried Patsy. “It’s not so bad, chief, after all. She’s not completely in the soup.”

They were rapidly approaching the couple while speaking.

The nurse, or governess, for such the young woman appeared to be, had arisen and was assisting the other to her feet.

She was a well-dressed woman of thirty-five, with an abundance of wavy auburn hair and rather thin features, fairly prepossessing, but then quite pale. She was wiping a white froth from her lips, and appeared [Pg 3]weak and confused.

“What’s the trouble?” Nick asked, addressing the nurse. “When was she taken ill? Do you know her?”

He now suspected that the woman might be subject to fits, and that she would recover without medical aid.

“No, sir, I don’t know her,” replied the girl. “I was tending the children just around the curve, sir, when a boy ran up and told me that a woman had fainted. He pointed this way, and I hurried to help her, and that’s all I can tell you.”

“I shall be all right in a few moments,” said the woman, evidently striving to pull herself together. “Don’t be alarmed, nor do anything more. I shall come out of it.”

“Are you subject to such attacks?” Nick inquired, turning to her, while Patsy also drew nearer.

“Yes, sir, at times. It’s epilepsy, sir, but this was only a slight attack. I must have come out of it very quickly.”

“Do you want a physician?”

“No, sir. I shall be able to go home presently.”

“Where do you live?”

“In Eighty-first Street.”

“What name? I ask only lest you have a second attack.”

“Miss Margaret Hanson, sir. But I shall not have another attack at present. I never have two in quick succession. I now am able to go, sir, thanking you for your kindness.”

“I will take you home in my automobile, Miss Hanson, if you wish me to do so,” said Nick kindly.

“Oh, no, sir, thank you,” she quickly objected, gradually drawing away. “These attacks are not as serious as they appear. It will do me good to walk home, sir, thanking you again.”

She bowed and moved away with the last, evidently quite herself again, and Nick turned to Patsy and started to return to his touring car, in which Danny was waiting.

The girl in an apron and starched cap was just departing around a curve in the driveway some thirty yards[Pg 4] distant, her trim figure partly hidden by some intervening shrubbery.

“Come on,” said Nick. “It was nothing serious, after all.”

He recalled the last with rather grim sentiments a few minutes later.

“An ordinary fit, chief, wasn’t it?” questioned Patsy.

“Yes, but only a mild one, as she said. I knew what the trouble was, all right, when I saw her wiping froth from her lips.”

“What a beastly affliction!”

“Beastly hardly expresses it,” said Nick. “Any disorder that knocks one out without warning is a deucedly bad affliction. If she had—— Hello! What now?”

A cry of alarm came from the direction in which the nurse had disappeared. Looking back, for Nick and Patsy had nearly reached the waiting touring car, they now beheld the girl running wildly hither and thither, excitedly wringing her hands, and evidently in a frantic search for some one.

Beyond the fringe of shrubbery flanking the curve of the driveway stood a baby carriage containing a child about two years old, then crying piteously.

“By Jove, there’s more trouble,” said Patsy. “What’s the matter with her? She spoke of tending the children. I can see only one. She must have lost track of the other.”

“It has strayed away, probably, or——”

Nick broke off abruptly, wheeling sharply around to gaze in the direction Miss Margaret Hanson had taken.

She had disappeared. Neither in the driveway, the adjoining grounds, nor in any part of the near avenue, was there any sign of her.

Nick Carter’s strong, clean-cut face underwent a decided change. He turned to Patsy, saying hurriedly:

“By Jove! This may be a put-up job. Get a move on, Patsy. Hunt up that woman who fainted. Find her, if possible, and keep your eye on her.”

“You think——”

“A child in charge of that nurse may have been stolen. The woman’s fit may have been only a trick to lure the nurse away while——”

“Holy smoke!” Patsy interrupted. “I’ve got you.”

He darted away at top speed with the last in search of Margaret Hanson.

Nick already had turned, and was hurrying toward the distracted nurse, who still was seeking here and there like one bereft of her senses. Tears were streaming down her cheeks when the detective approached her and grasped her arm, saying firmly yet kindly:

“Come, come, my girl; calm yourself. What’s the trouble?”

“It’s Amy, sir,” moaned the girl. “I can’t find her.”

“You left her here?”

“Yes, sir, when I went to aid that woman. I told her to stay right here and tend the baby. Oh, I must find a policeman, and——”

“Stop a moment,” said Nick, detaining her. “I can do more than a policeman. I am a detective. Compose yourself, now, and tell me just what occurred. I will help you find the child. How old is she?”

Glancing sharply around, Nick had seen plainly that the child would be easily discovered unless she had strayed to a considerable distance, which was quite improbable in the short time the nurse had been absent. The circumstances,[Pg 5] moreover, already led him to suspect something far more serious.

Somewhat encouraged by his assurances, the nurse governed her agitation and hastened to reply.

“Amy is six years old, sir.”

“How long had you been with the woman when I joined you?”

“Not more than a couple of minutes.”

“What is your name?”

“Lucy Sloan. I am employed by Mr. John Madden, sir, who lives in the big marble house on the other side of the avenue. I have been there five years, sir, ever since Amy was a baby. Oh, what shall I do to find her? The master’s heart will break unless I can find her.”

The girl pointed to a palatial marble residence on the opposite side of Fifth Avenue, that of a millionaire banker and broker, whose operations in the stock market a dozen years before had given him not only vast wealth, but also a national reputation. He then had subsided, however, and during more recent years he had devoted only part of his time to business, though he still retained his interests in the firm of which he long had been the senior member, that of Madden, Mellen & Mack.

Though not acquainted with the other members of the firm, Nick long had been a personal friend of John Madden, having served him in several important financial cases. This fact, together with certain circumstances in the family history of the man, the nature of which will presently appear, not only caused Nick to regard the disappearance of the child more seriously, but also to take up the affair with increasing zest.

Turning to Lucy Sloan, who was a pretty girl in the twenties, and whose face was a voucher for her honesty, Nick said more earnestly:

“I am well acquainted with Mr. Madden. In fact, Lucy, I am the first person on whom he would call for aid in case his little girl is really lost. Tell me, now, just what occurred here that sent you to assist the woman who fainted.”

Lucy Sloan, however, could add but little to what she already had stated. She had been walking in the park about ten minutes before, the immediate locality then being otherwise deserted, when a boy about ten years old came running toward her, crying that a woman had fainted, at the same time pointing around the curve in the direction from which he had approached. It then was about four o’clock on a charming May afternoon.

Without waiting to question the boy, Lucy hurriedly directed him to watch the two children, and she then ran to the woman’s assistance, with whom Nick had observed her two or three minutes later. Returning while the detective was talking with the woman, Lucy found only the child crying in the carriage, and at once began a vain and frantic search for the missing girl. The boy also had disappeared, and all had transpired within a period of five or six minutes.

In the meantime, too, Margaret Hanson had vanished. For Patsy Garvan returned just as the nurse ended her hurried statements, and his face alone told the story.

“Couldn’t find her, eh?” Nick tersely questioned.

“Not hide nor hair of her, chief,” said Patsy; “nor any one who had seen a woman of her description. She must have made a bee line for the avenue, and taken a conveyance of some kind.”

Nick glanced around again and sized up the possibilities[Pg 6] of the immediate locality. Twenty yards away was a divergent driveway running north, in which, as well as the one near by, the tracks left by the tires of automobiles could be distinctly seen. None of these denoted that a car had recently passed that way, however, nor had Nick seen any during the episodes described.

“Are you in the habit of coming here with the children in the afternoon?” he asked a bit abruptly, again addressing the nurse.

“Yes, sir, every pleasant day.”

“At about this time?”

“Yes, sir; from three until five.”

“Did you see any one looking at you, or acting suspiciously, before the lad came and spoke to you?”

“I did not, sir. There was no one near here except people passing at times.”

“Would you know the boy if you were to see him again?”

“Indeed, sir, I would,” Lucy declared emphatically. “He is about ten years old, with red hair and freckled face. I’d know him among a million.”

“Was he well dressed?”

“Not very, sir.”

“Did he appear like a street gamin, or somewhat refined?”

“More like a boy of the street, sir, and he spoke like one.”

“How so?”

“He said he’d mind the kid, sir, and he called the woman a skirt,” explained Lucy. “I knew what he meant, sir, but only rough boys talk like that.”

“True,” Nick nodded. “At what time does Mr. Madden usually come home?”

“About five o’clock, sir, and he always wants the children there when he comes in. They are his only comfort, sir, since the mistress died. It would break his heart to lose Amy. Oh, what shall I do? I’ll go crazy, sir, unless we can find her.”

“That certainly would do no good, my girl, though I appreciate your feelings,” Nick replied.

Then, turning to Patsy, he added quickly:

“You rejoin Danny, and take a turn around here with the car. See what you can learn, and also keep an eye open for the lad this girl has described. Report to me at Mr. Madden’s residence. I’m going over there with the nurse and will wait until he comes. I can explain this case to him much better than she. You understand.”

“Sure thing, chief,” said Patsy, with unusual gravity. “I’m on, all right.”

CHAPTER II.
A VOICE BY WIRE.

Five o’clock that afternoon found Nick Carter and Patsy seated in Mr. John Madden’s handsomely furnished library in the Fifth Avenue residence mentioned, in front of which the detective’s touring car then was standing.

Their only companion was Mr. Madden himself, who arrived soon after Nick was admitted by the butler, and the detective already had stated the distressing circumstances.

Arriving in the meantime, Patsy could make only a negative report. Despite his energetic efforts for upward of half an hour, he could find no trace of the un[Pg 7]known lad, or the missing girl, nor any person who could add to the information already obtained.

Mr. Madden, though a man of nearly seventy, had received the terrible news with characteristic fortitude and habitual dignity and composure. He had figured in too many serious situations, and suffered too many domestic afflictions, for his self-possession to be easily overcome.

He was not less deeply affected, nevertheless, for, as the nurse had said, his two children were his only joy and comfort. He had no others. He had lost his first wife thirty years before. His second, a beautiful girl much younger than himself, had died shortly after the birth of her second child.

Since then, though he had retained his magnificent residence and several of his faithful and devoted servants, Mr. John Madden had found but little enjoyment in life beyond that derived from the two pretty children a loving wife had left him.

He sat gazing at Nick Carter at five o’clock that afternoon, with tears in his eyes and his hands gripping his knees—a portly, smoothly shaved man with gray hair and a remarkably attractive countenance, despite the shadow of sorrow that never left him. He was saying deliberately, with a voice rendered steady only by the strength of a superior will:

“I agree with you, Nick, in that Lucy is not at fault. That would be very unlike her. She has been faithful, always cautious and careful, during the five years she has been in my service. No, I will not censure her.”

“It really would be very unjust,” Nick said earnestly. “She did perfectly right in acting upon her impulse to aid a woman said to be in distress, and she cannot reasonably be blamed for not suspecting that she was the victim of a put-up job. Even with all of my experience, Mr. Madden, I did not at first suspect it.”

“Do you now feel sure of it?” Mr. Madden gravely questioned.

“Yes, absolutely,” said the detective. “The circumstances admit of no other interpretation. This whole business was cut and dried, carefully planned, and cleverly executed.”

“You reason that——”

“It may be told in a nutshell,” Nick interposed. “No such lad as Lucy Sloan described would have remained to watch the two children while she ran to aid a fainting woman. A well-bred boy, accustomed to obey his elders, might have done so, but not a lad of the streets. He, boylike, would have returned to learn how the woman fared and to see all that occurred.”

“Sure!” put in Patsy expressively. “I know. I’ve been there.”

“In view of what occurred, moreover, the almost immediate recovery of the woman shows that she was only feigning. That is confirmed, too, by her speedy disappearance. She had to make a quick get-away before the absence of Amy was discovered. She got a move on, I remember, the moment the nurse started to return to the children.”

“You do not believe, then, that her name is Margaret Hanson?”

“Not for a moment,” said Nick. “That was only a blind. She is a very cool and clever woman, Mr. Madden, and one of an equally clever gang by whom your daughter has been abducted. The circumstances admit of no other conclusion.[Pg 8]

“My Lord, this is terrible!” Mr. Madden said, with a groan.

“I do not think, however, that the child is in any immediate personal peril,” Nick quickly added. “She probably has been abducted with a view to bleeding you out of a large sum of money.”

“I will pay any sum, Nick, to have her safely restored to me.”

“No, no, don’t do that,” Nick protested. “Surely not at present. It may become necessary, of course, after we have exhausted all other resources, but not until then. You owe it to the community, as well as to yourself, to defer yielding to such knavery as long as you can consistently do so. In the meantime I will devote all of my energies to running down the crooks and finding the child.”

“But they may kill her, or——”

“Not at present,” Nick insisted. “Not as long as they see a ghost of a chance of forcing you to comply with their demands. That would be the worst step they could take. Have no fear of it, Mr. Madden. They will not kill the goose from which they hope to get a golden egg.”

“What do you advise?” Mr. Madden asked gravely.

“I want you to give me entire charge of the case.”

“I would demur over it, Nick, if that proposition came from any other man. Coming from you—well, I know I cannot do better than accept it.”

“I think so, too.”

“That settles it, then.”

“Very good,” said Nick. “You must, therefore, take no steps beyond what I may direct. In imposing that condition, Mr. Madden, I have only a word to add. I will do all that you could do, or the entire metropolitan police, to trace and recover your daughter. I will also accomplish it before she suffers any serious harm, even though I am finally forced to throw up my hands and pay a ransom for her safe return.”

“I understand, Nick, and have absolute faith in your judgment,” Mr. Madden said feelingly. “I give you entire charge of the case. You evidently think, I infer, that we shall hear from her abductors.”

“Hear from them!” Nick exclaimed, smiling. “Don’t you doubt that for a moment, Mr. Madden. You will hear from them much sooner than you expect, providing I have sized up the case correctly.”

“Well, possibly.”

“What would you do,” Nick added, “if you were engaged in such knavery? Your first step would be to prevent too much publicity, too great activity by the police, both of which could best be insured by communicating promptly with an anxious parent and stating the precise situation. You will hear from these rascals within an hour, unless I am much mistaken, either by telephone or——”

Nick’s prediction was verified even while he was speaking. The bell of a telephone on the library table interrupted him. He laughed in somewhat sinister fashion, and held up his hand.

“Keep your seat, Mr. Madden,” said he. “I will see what’s doing. This may be the first gun on the skirmish line.”

“Gee! My money goes on that,” put in Patsy.

Nick turned and picked up the telephone while speaking. Removing the receiver, he called hurriedly, almost perfectly imitating Mr. Madden’s voice:[Pg 9]

“Hello! Hello!”

A woman’s voice came over the wire. It was a cold, curt, sinister voice, with a ring of metallic hardness denoting will power, decision, and a sort of bulldog aggressiveness:

“I want Mr. John Madden. Is he at home?”

“Where in thunder have I heard that voice?”

The question flashed through the detective’s mind the instant he heard it. Still imitating that of the venerable millionaire, Nick quickly answered:

“I am he. John Madden is talking. Who are you?”

The response came with more threatening intonation:

“Never mind who I am. You keep your trap closed, and let me do the talking. If you butt in with any questions, I’ll hang up the receiver. Do you get me?”

“Yes,” said Nick.

“Listen, then, and don’t butt in,” continued the woman. “It’s about a piece of live stock that you must have missed by this time. I’ve got the lamb, and she’s all right. Whether she’ll come home all right, wagging her tail behind her, depends on yourself. You’ll get a letter to-morrow morning stating the conditions. It will be mailed to your business office—and it will mean business, too; you can bet on that.”

“Tell me——”

“You keep quiet,” snapped the woman. “I’ll do all the telling that’s necessary. You do the listening.”

“Go on.”

“The letter you will receive to-morrow morning will explain all. In the meantime the lost lamb will not be harmed, and you must not take steps to find her. If you do, mind you, we will surely fleece her instead of you. Don’t publish the facts. Don’t inform the police. Don’t kick up a stir of any kind. Do you get me?”

“Yes,” Nick repeated simply.

“Mark this, too; don’t you employ Nick Carter in this affair, as you have in others, or it will be all over but the shouting—and the burial. We’ll return her to you in a wooden raincoat. That goes, mind you, and that’s all for the present. Beware of any deviations from these instructions. Wait for your letter to-morrow morning.”

Nick heard the quick click of the hook on the distant telephone when the threatening speaker hung up the receiver, and he knew that any attempt to prolong the interview would be utterly futile. He replaced the telephone on the library table, then turned and told his companions all that he had heard.

The pale, anxious face of the noted money king became a little brighter while he listened. He found a grain of comfort and encouragement in knowing, at least, that his missing child was in no immediate danger.

“You were right, Nick,” he declared. “The scoundrels have hastened to communicate with me.”

“I felt sure of that, Mr. Madden.”

“But I have made one terrible mistake.”

“What is that?”

“In putting you on the case. If that woman’s threat——”

“That will not be executed,” Nick interrupted, resuming his seat. “The rascals must know that you may have notified the police by this time, or even have appealed to me. That threat was only a bluff. Take it from me, Mr. Madden, they will not harm the child at present, do what you will. They have not abducted her for that purpose.[Pg 10]

“That’s a good safe gamble,” supplemented Patsy. “They are out for the coin, Mr. Madden, and nothing else. There may be a second woman in the case, chief, or Margaret Hanson, so called, did not recognize you. If she had, they already would know you are on the case.”

“There is a second woman,” Nick replied. “Furthermore, Patsy, she is some crook with whom I am acquainted.”

“You recognized her voice?”

“Positively! But I cannot tell whose voice. I am absolutely sure, nevertheless, that I have heard it before.”

“Not Margaret Hanson’s voice?”

“No.”

“Some other woman, then, may have got away with the child. It may have been her voice.”

“That is precisely what I suspect,” said Nick. “Is Amy a child, Mr. Madden, who would readily go with a stranger?”

“No, no; quite the contrary,” Mr. Madden quickly assured him. “She is very shy of strangers, and has been repeatedly cautioned against having anything to do with them out of doors.”

“That may help us materially,” said Nick.

“How so?”

“It would have been exceedingly risky to have abducted her by force,” Nick explained. “A scream from the child would have been heard in half a dozen directions. It is ten to one, therefore, that she was abducted by some person with whom she is acquainted, perhaps of whom she is fond, even, and by whom she could easily have been influenced. Do you know of any woman, Mr. Madden, who would be guilty of such a crime?”

“No, indeed, I do not,” he replied, after racking his brain for several moments. “Bear in mind, Nick, that Amy is only six years of age, also that my wife has been dead nearly two years, and that I since have had very few women visitors. I really know of none by whom the child could have been lured away—surely none capable of committing such a crime.”

“Your servants are trustworthy?”

“Absolutely.”

“Have you ever discharged one with whom the child was familiar, and who may be seeking revenge, as well as money?”

“No. I feel sure of that, Nick, also.”

“I think we have covered all of the ground, then, for the present,” Nick announced. “We will await further developments. I shall take no steps until to-morrow, after seeing the letter you are to receive in your morning mail. I will call at your business office at nine o’clock.”

“Will it not be better, instead, for me to bring the letter to your office?” Mr. Madden earnestly questioned.

“Lest the rascals may discover that I call on you and am on the case?”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t let that worry you,” said Nick significantly. “I will call on you in disguise. As a matter of fact, however, I don’t much care if they do learn that I am after them. It may draw them from cover and into making some move that will prove disastrous to them. You leave it all to me, Mr. Madden, and meet me in your business office at nine to-morrow morning.”

Nick arose with the last and took his hat from the table.[Pg 11]

“I will send in a card bearing a fictitious name,” he added. “Henderson Black.”

“Henderson Black,” repeated the banker. “I will remember it.”

It was nearly six o’clock when Nick departed with Patsy. Half an hour later both were seated at dinner in the detective’s Madison Avenue residence, in company with his chief assistant, Chick Carter, who had been fully informed of the case.

“There are several obvious points, Nick, at least,” he remarked. “The crooks must have known that Lucy Sloan was in the habit of taking the two children to the park each afternoon, also where she would be at a certain time, and just how the job could be safely done.”

“True,” Nick agreed. “That goes without saying.”

“And that familiarity with her daily doings, together with the fact that they got away with the child so quickly and without any outcry, are very significant,” Chick added. “The child must have known her abductor, and the latter must have known that the child could be easily and quickly enticed away.”

“Certainly. That also is obvious.”

“Who is the woman, then, or man, as the case may be, who has been so friendly with the child to have felt sure of being able to successfully pull off such a job?”

Nick laughed a bit grimly.

“That is a pertinent question, Chick, more easily asked than answered,” he replied. “It is useless to speculate upon it at this stage of the game. We will await the promised letter from the rascals. We then may find the answer between the lines.”

CHAPTER III.
AN AUDACIOUS DEMAND.

Nick Carter would not have been recognized by his most intimate friend when, at nine o’clock the following morning, he entered the Broad Street building in which the banking and brokerage offices of Madden, Mellen & Mack were located.

Nick appeared, in fact, like an elderly investor in stocks and bonds, a sedate and deliberate old gentleman, modestly clad, and who hooked his cane over his arm while he produced and tendered a card to a clerk in the outer office, at the same time requesting an interview with the head of the firm.

Nick was immediately conducted to an interior room, in which all three members of the firm were seated. It contained three roll-top desks, a table laden with books, papers, and documents, and a partly screened stand in one corner, on which was a large typewriter.

Nick noticed that the machine was covered and that the stenographer had not yet arrived.

Mr. Mellen, the second member of the firm, was an energetic man of middle age, their operator on the floor of the Stock Exchange, which necessitated his absence from the office during most of the business hours. He arose to go, in fact, very soon after the detective entered.

The junior member was David Mack, who acted as cashier for the firm. He was much younger, still under forty, a well-built, clean-cut man, with a smoothly shaved face, quite dark and attractive. He was personally the most up-to-date and striking man of the three.

Mr. Madden, looking pale and anxious after a sleepless night, at once arose to receive the detective.[Pg 12]

“I would never know you, Nick, had I forgotten your fictitious name,” he said, smiling gravely, while he shook hands with Nick. “I have confided in my partners, of course, from whom I have no secrets. Their discretion may be safely relied upon.”

Nick acknowledged the introductions that followed, shaking hands with both bankers and remarking agreeably:

“You have done quite right, Mr. Madden. These gentlemen will, I am sure, do what I advise in this matter.”

“Yes, yes, Mr. Carter, surely,” Mellen quickly asserted. “We feel nearly as anxious as Mr. Madden concerning his daughter, and fully as indignant over this outrage. We will do whatever you suggest.”

David Mack also nodded approvingly, saying familiarly, with an expressive gleam in his dark eyes:

“It’s more than an outrage, Carter. It’s deviltry, infernal deviltry, of the most satanic kind. Hanging is too good for such scoundrels.”

“I agree with you, Mr. Mack,” Nick replied.

“As for doing what you advise, Carter, it looks to me as if I might do very much more,” Mack forcibly added. “But I’m game—I’m game for it. I’ll show these knaves what kind of wood shingles are made of, providing I can trick them in some way and turn the tables on them.”

“That must be Greek to Mr. Carter,” said Mellen, rising to go. “He must see that letter in order to understand you.”

“Yes, yes, the letter will explain,” John Madden put in. “It came in our morning mail, as promised, and it fully confirms your theory. Hand it to him, David. Let him see for himself.”

“It’s a dastardly, devilish outrage,” Mack declared again, handing Nick the communication in question. “Such miscreants ought to be tarred and feathered and then burned at a stake. Read it, Carter, for yourself.”

Nick took the sheet of paper and examined it. He saw at a glance that it had been torn from a pad of perfectly plain paper, obviously to preclude tracing the writer by means of it.

Instead of having been written, however, the communication was neatly printed with a lead pencil, occasional erasures denoting that considerable care had been taken in forming the printed letters.

The communication read as follows:

“Mr. John Madden: The undersigned need money—of which you have a thousand times more than you really need.

“In order to separate you from the amount we require, therefore, we have begun with separating you from something more dear to you than money—your child.

“The situation now is a simple one. It needs no elaboration. You want your stolen child. We want half a million dollars.

“That is the price you must pay—or suffer an only alternative.

“If you submit and consent to pay this ransom, acting directly in accord with instructions we shall give, your child will be quickly and safely restored to you.

“If you refuse, or attempt to dicker over the payment, we will send you the girl—laid out for burial. There is no middle course.

“Half a million ransom—or death.

“This is the only letter we shall send you. We refuse, furthermore, to treat directly with you. You are too[Pg 13] old a man to engage in such business. Negotiations must be continued, therefore, and the ransom finally paid, by a third party—some representative in whom you have absolute confidence.

“Lest you resort to subterfuge, however, and appoint some one who would make trouble for us, Nick Carter for example, instead of rigidly following our instructions, which is imperative to the safety of your daughter, we appoint a representative who should be entirely satisfactory to you—Mr. David Mack, your junior partner.

“It is up to you, now, to command him to rigidly follow our instructions. Any deviation from them will be fatal to your hopes—and fatal to your child.

“David Mack will hear from us later. A personal interview with him is necessary. He must do precisely what we direct. As long as he does, he will be in no personal peril. If he attempts trickery, however, he will meet the fate of a trickster. No more need be said. There remains only to act. And upon how you act—all will depend.

“David Mack must make no move, however, until he hears from me. He will be given explicit instructions, which he must follow to the letter. Beware of any deviation from them—and of the vengeance of

“Ralph Redlaw, Chief of the Needy Nine.”

Twice from beginning to end, without once looking up from the pencil-printed sheet, Nick Carter read this threatening communication, with its amazingly audacious demand. His face did not reflect his thoughts. If he read between the lines the answer to Chick Carter’s pertinent question, or even a hint at the answer, his serious, unchanging countenance did not reveal it.

John Madden watched him anxiously.

David Mack gazed at him with fixed and searching scrutiny.

Neither banker broke the silence until the detective looked up from the printed sheet.

“Well, what do you think of it?” Mack then asked bluntly. “Isn’t it the limit? Could you beat it?”

“How to beat the rascals is a more pertinent question,” Nick replied, with grim austerity.

“True. That goes without saying.”

“What are your views, Nick?” Mr. Madden asked, more gravely. “I am anxious for your opinion.”

“The scoundrels mean business, Mr. Madden,” Nick replied, glancing again at the letter. “I take no stock in this signature, Ralph Redlaw, Chief of the Needy Nine. The name is fictitious. Furthermore, I don’t believe that there are nine persons engaged in this felony. Crooks seldom take chances by trusting so many confederates unless the size of the conspiracy requires it. That is not essential in this case. Four or five, or even three, could have done the job as easily as nine. This entire signature is only a blind.”

“Surely,” Mack nodded. “That’s my opinion.”

“The letter was printed, instead of written, in order to preclude identification of the sender by means of his handwriting,” Nick continued. “Plain paper was used with a like purpose. As I have said, however, the scoundrels mean business. Furthermore, they are not ordinary criminals, not a gang of thugs and illiterate crooks. The letter plainly shows them to be persons of intelligence, as well as knavish determination. They certainly mean business.[Pg 14]

“Business be hanged!” Mack blurted. “So do we mean business, Carter, or should. Half a million ransom—why, that’s outrageous, absurd, utterly preposterous. I never would pay it. I would spend half a million, instead, in running down this gang of mercenaries and bringing them to justice.”

“How would you set about it?” Nick inquired tentatively.

“Well, I don’t know,” Mack admitted. “I cannot say offhand. I would find a way, nevertheless, if any way exists. Half a million—it’s devilish, nothing less. I never would pay it.”

“Don’t say that, Dave,” Mr. Madden gravely protested. “It is an outrageous demand, I admit, but the writer of that letter made one true statement, at least—that I have been separated from something more dear to me than money. I would pay the ransom within an hour, Dave, if convinced that my darling’s life depended upon it.”

“Well, that’s for you to decide,” David Mack rejoined. “I appreciate your feelings, of course, but I first would give these miscreants a desperate run for the money. I’ll do my part, Carter, you can bet on that. I’ll take any kind of a chance to get the best of them. They may find they have made a big mistake in appointing me to conduct their infernal negotiations. I’ll find some way to thwart them.”

David Mack looked quite capable of doing what he asserted, for he was a clean-cut, athletic man, whose indignation was evidently stirred to its depths. His bitter voice and flashing eyes, moreover, spoke volumes.

Nick gazed at him for a moment before replying, then said approvingly:

“Your remarks have the true ring, Mr. Mack, and I’m glad to note it. On the contrary, however, you must not undertake to thwart these scoundrels.”

“Not undertake it!” Dave gasped. “Good heavens! you don’t mean, Carter, that you advise paying this ransom?”

“No, I do not,” Nick assured him. “But the situation is one that requires skillful handling. A blunder of any kind might cost the child her life. I mean what I said in the beginning, Mr. Mack. You must be governed by my instructions. I am better able than you to devise a way to foil these knaves and recover the stolen child.”

“Very true,” Dave quickly admitted. “That will be agreeable to me, Carter, more than agreeable. I will do whatever you direct. Command me in any way. I’m game. I’ll take any kind of a chance. What are your plans?”

CHAPTER IV.
AN UNEXPECTED CLEW.

Nick Carter was not long in deciding what plans he would adopt. He took the Redlaw letter from the table, saying, while he folded it and slipped it into his pocket:

“I will keep this for the present. I may not be able to trace the writer, but we will take advantage of one fact, at least, that he wants a personal interview with Mr. Mack.”

“How would it work, Carter, to have me secretly shadowed?” Dave inquired. “We might in that way contrive to locate the entire gang.”

“There would be nothing in attempting anything of that kind,” Nick quickly objected. “The crooks engaged in[Pg 15] this job are not blockheads. They will guard against being discovered by any such trick as that.”

“You may be right,” Mack thoughtfully allowed.

“I know I am right,” Nick insisted. “You must be governed strictly by my instructions.”

“You may depend upon that.”

“To begin with, then, you must inform me by telephone as soon as you hear from Redlaw and learn when and where you are to meet him. If I happen to be out of my house, you may state the circumstances to one of my assistants.”

“I will do so.”

“State precisely what you learn and what is expected of you. The rascal will devise some way of safely meeting you.”

“What shall I say to him? What——”

“We must play for time,” Nick interrupted. “I want time in which to get in my work. You must discuss the matter with that object in view.”

“I understand.”

“Pretend that you cannot definitely settle the matter in a single interview; that you must confer again with Mr. Madden before doing so, and that a second interview will be necessary,” Nick added. “Employ an argument, or subterfuge, in fact, that will enable you to stave off a definite agreement with the scamps.”

“I’ve got you,” Dave nodded. “Leave it to me.”

“Having kept the appointment and accomplished that much, you must let me know all of the particulars as quickly as possible,” Nick proceeded. “Telephone to me, however, instead of coming to my office. I will then give you further instructions. They will depend, of course, upon what you report to me.”

“Certainly. I understand you perfectly.”

“That is all, then, at present,” said Nick. “Do only what I have directed, Mr. Mack, and leave me to do the rest. If I find that I——”

A knock on the door interrupted him. A clerk from the outer office entered.

“Mr. Littlefield is here, sir,” said he, addressing the cashier of the firm. “He wants to go through his account with you this morning, as you requested.”

“Yes, yes, to be sure. Tell him I will be with him in just a moment.”

David Mack arose while speaking, then turned to the detective.

“It will take me a quarter hour,” said he. “Will you excuse me? I will return as soon as——”

“There is no occasion,” Nick interposed. “You know what is required of you, and I shall leave in a very few minutes.”

“Very well. You will hear from me later, then.”

“Certainly. As soon as you have heard from Redlaw.”

“Trust me for that,” Dave nodded, extending his hand. “You can bank on me, Carter, to do precisely what you have directed.”

“Much may depend upon it. Good morning.”

David Mack turned and hastened from the room.

Nick gazed at the aged banker, noting his haggard expression and that there were tears in his eyes.

“Don’t lose heart, Mr. Madden,” he said kindly. “I think we will finally outwit these rascals and get the best of them.”

“Do you really think so?” Mr. Madden questioned, a bit doubtfully.[Pg 16]

“I do, indeed.”

“But tell me frankly, Nick,” entreated the banker. “Have you any definite clew, any suspicions that really warrant the encouragement you give me? I wish to know the worst.”

Nick was averse to deceiving him. He realized only too keenly that he had, as yet, no definite clew to the identity of the crooks, and that he then was banking almost entirely upon the arrangements he had just made with David Mack, and upon what they would bring forth. He shook his head and rejoined, a bit gravely:

“Frankly, Mr. Madden, I can only reply in the negative.”

“I feared so.”

“I feel confident, nevertheless, that I soon shall pick up a thread worth following,” Nick quickly added. “I never can tell when that may happen. It may come when least expected. I will immediately inform you in that case and relieve your anxiety.”

“Do so, Nick, by all means.”

“I suppose in case you are absent that your stenographer will forward any message I might send.”

Nick glanced at the covered typewriter mentioned, but with no idea that his prediction of a moment before was about to be verified.

“Some one would surely forward a message,” Mr. Madden replied. “Our stenographer left us a few days ago, however, and her position has not yet been filled.”