Mignon Field, fortunately, was not badly injured. It was only a flesh wound, after all, the doctor said, and she would soon be herself again.
Nick Carter was rejoiced to hear this at the Field’s residence, to which he had taken Mignon, for he felt a sincere interest in the beautiful young girl.
When Nick Carter left the banker’s mansion he did not notice a nice, gentlemanly-looking fellow who followed him.
For many blocks he dodged the detective’s footsteps, and when the latter took a car he also boarded it.
Nick went to his home, and the other still kept at his heels.
The detective had but reached his room when his servant announced a visitor.
He supposed that it was some one from headquarters, and he was surprised when the gentleman, who had been following him, was ushered in.
“You will pardon the intrusion of a stranger, I am sure,” said the visitor, giving the detective his card, “when you have heard what I have to say.”
“Go ahead, Mr. Furman,” said Nick, glancing at his visitor’s card.
“I will take my own way, and I hope I may not give offense.”
Nick Carter surveyed the cheeky fellow from head to foot, and were he to express his thoughts the gentleman would have heard little complimentary.
Furman sat down on a lounge and threw one leg over the other.
The fellow was cool, decidedly cool.
“You would like to be rich?” he said. “But that is a foolish question; we all want money, and the more we get the better appetite we have for more. It never surfeits a fellow.”
“Come to the point at once,” said Nick, who seriously contemplated throwing his visitor downstairs. “What do you want? I have no time to listen to your impertinence.”
“Do you want to make a cool hundred thousand dollars?” asked Mr. Furman.
“No,” was the reply; “I certainly could not make it honestly.”
“That is a matter of choice, whether what I propose is honest or not,” said the visitor. “I should say it was not dishonest.”
“What is it that you propose?” asked the detective.
“That you will give up the search for Hilton Field.”
“Oh, that’s your little game, is it?” said Nick. “It is evident that you don’t know me, or you would not have made such a proposition. Who do you represent in this matter?”
“It does not signify.”
“Elmer Greer has no such sum of money to pay,” remarked the detective.
“I am quite aware of that,” said Mr. Furman.
“Then, it is Thomas Smith, the curbstone broker,” remarked Nick.
“Well, we’ll suppose it is Tom Smith,” said the visitor. “It will make no difference to you who puts up the stuff, if you get it.”
“I told you I would have nothing to do with you.”
“Better think it over,” suggested Furman.
Nick did think for a moment, and his visitor eagerly watched his features the while, but he could see nothing there.
“I will accept your offer,” said the detective, hastily, “but when am I to receive this money?”
“You will be paid twenty thousand dollars to-day and the rest in thirty days’ time,” replied Mr. Furman, smiling at his success. “I knew you would come around, after a bit.”
“What man wouldn’t?” said Nick, with great earnestness. “Why, you offer me a fortune. But suppose some other detective finds the old banker, what then?”
“We have no fear of the others,” answered the visitor. “You are the only one we are afraid of. Of course you will not give any of them a clew to work on?”
“Not I.”
“Then we will go down to Wall Street and get your first installment.”
In a dark room, in the rear of the fourth story of a Pine Street building, into which Nick was ushered, sat the broker friend of Elmer Greer.
“You have succeeded, Sam, I see,” said Tom Smith to Mr. Furman.
Turning to the detective, Smith put out his hand, saying:
“I guess we can come to terms. I felt very sorry for that affair at the hotel the other night.”
“I have no doubt you did, sir,” remarked Nick.
“Sam has explained my proposition, I trust,” said the smiling broker.
“Oh, yes. I understand the matter thoroughly,” replied the detective. “I am to receive twenty thousand to-day.”
“Just so, and at the end of a month, eighty thousand more.”
“It is a heap of money,” said Nick, evidently carried away by the magnitude of the sum.
“Oh, I can afford it; and—let me whisper—perhaps you may get more than you bargain for,” remarked the broker. “The disappearance of this old fossil, Field, has been a great thing for me, and you may be sure I am feathering my nest.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said the detective.
Smith went to a large safe and took from it a package of bills.
They were all of large denominations, and the twenty thousand dollars he handed his visitor did not make a very thick bundle.
Nick Carter shoved the money into an inside pocket and buttoned his coat.
“Mr. Smith,” he said, “you must give me your note for the balance, and state on its face what service the money is paid for.”
The broker hemmed and hawed; this proposition was not at all to his liking.
“If you do not,” continued Nick, “our bargain is off.”
There was no resisting this threat, and Smith hastened to satisfy the officer’s demand.
Nick placed the note with the bills and rebuttoned his coat.
“Of course,” said Smith, “you will forget about that business at the hotel. I mean, you won’t ‘pinch’ Greer and the girl?”
The detective smiled in spite of his efforts to refrain from doing so.
“I suppose you have business to attend to?” said the broker, extending his hand.
He had accomplished what he wished and was anxious to bring the interview to an end.
“Y-e-s,” drawled Nick. “I have some business to attend to.”
“Then don’t let me detain you,” said Tom Smith.
The pair of handcuffs that the detective drew from his pocket were neat ones, and the pistol that he brought to light with them was gold-mounted, but their beauty did not strike the broker.
“What do you mean?” he cried, aghast, as he retreated to the furthest end of the room.
“That you will accompany me to police headquarters,” said Nick Carter. “You won’t be lonesome; our friend, Mr. Furman, here, will go along.”
“Will he?” Sam cried, discharging a pistol full at the officer.
The bullet whistled past Nick’s ear and imbedded itself in the wall.
Before Furman could again fire, the detective snatched the weapon from his hand.
Then Nick Carter locked the door and put the key in his pocket.
“Give me back my money,” said Smith.
The detective laughed at the trembling culprit, whom he had so easily taken in.
The broker was very pale, and his knees were so weak that it was with difficulty he managed to stand.
Furman, on the other hand, seemed cool.
“Come, give me your hand.” Nick opened the iron cuff as he approached Tom.
At that moment Furman, who was behind him, sprang forward.
The detective was prepared for this, and turning around, he dealt Sam a blow between the eyes with his pistol Butt, that stretched that gentleman upon the floor.
Nick Carter placed the iron bracelet upon the broker’s wrist without much difficulty, although Smith struggled with all his strength to prevent him from doing so.
Furman arose to his feet, and, before he had time to look around him, the other handcuff was slipped on him.
“Well, you are a lovely pair, ain’t you?” said Nick, surveying his captives.
“Let me go,” said Smith, “and I will give you all that is in the safe—nearly a quarter of a million in government bonds. Give me enough to take me out of the country, and you can have the rest.”
Nick Carter laughed at him.
The safe door was open, and the broker asked permission to close it.
“I will attend to that,” said the detective; “you chaps can amuse yourselves in any manner you choose, while I am at work.”
With an ordinary penknife Nick removed the screws holding the compartment containing the tumblers in place.
It took him but a few minutes to set the lock on a new combination and replace it; then he closed the safe.
Tom Smith was a most interested spectator.
The broker felt that all was up with him.
Had he reasoned, Tom would have known that his money could not be taken away from him.
He had not stolen it, and, although he had made it by dishonest means, it was nevertheless his.
When they reached the street a crowd gathered around the detective and his prisoners.
Nick hailed a passing hack, and the party were driven to police headquarters.
The detective explained fully to his chief the details of the case, and handed over to him the twenty thousand dollars; also the note he had received from Smith.
The precious pair were brought before a police magistrate, and by him committed to the Tombs for attempted bribery.