MAGNET LIBRARY No. 436
A weekly publication devoted to Detective literature.
March 21, 1905.
UNDER THE TIGER’S CLAWS;
OR,
A Struggle for the Right
BY
NICHOLAS CARTER
AUTHOR OF
“The Great Enigma,” “Hounded to Death,” “The Price of a Secret,” “The
Man of Mystery,” “Run to Earth,” “Sealed Orders,” “The Seal of Death,”
“Driven from Cover,” etc.
NEW YORK
STREET & SMITH, Publishers
79-89 Seventh Avenue
Copyright, 1905
By STREET & SMITH
CONTENTS
I. The Man and the Money 5
II. Where Tides Meet 15
III. The Tiger’s Claws 31
IV. A Friend in Need 39
V. A Turn of Luck 48
VI. A Startling Sequence 63
VII. The Wages of Sin 72
VIII. By Whose Hand? 83
IX. Under Oath 98
X. A Mysterious Disappearance 109
XI. New Clues 123
XII. Driven to the Wall 133
XIII. Nick Calls the Turn 143
XIV. Two Bad Eggs 159
XV. Secret Work 170
XVI. Trapped 178
XVII. The Girl and the Crime 188
XVIII. Closing In 198
XIX. The Right Man 208
UNDER THE TIGER’S CLAWS.
CHAPTER I.
THE MAN AND THE MONEY.
“Well, my dear Gilsey, I rather think I can land him for you,” declared
Nick Carter, with an odd smile lurking in the corners of his keen, gray
eyes.
“But that will not do, Nick,” protested Mr. Raymond Gilsey, with an
immediate display of apprehension.
“Not do, sir?”
“It may not be what I want.”
“Not what you want?”
“Not exactly, Nick,” and Mr. Raymond Gilsey decisively shook his head.
He was a venerable banker, with a remarkably gentle and benevolent
countenance. He was the president of the Milmore Trust Company, a
banking-institution located in Forty-second Street, the patrons of which
consisted chiefly of business firms in the immediate neighborhood, and
of wealthy women, to whom the up-town location of the bank was a
convenience.
It was in Mr. Gilsey’s handsome private office that Nick Carter was
seated, one afternoon early in May, in response to a telephone request
from the banker about an hour before. Between the two there existed a
friendship of long standing, and the celebrated detective had hastened
to respond. As yet, however, he had received but a hint at the business
for which he had been called, and he wondered a little at the banker’s
obvious misgivings, as appeared in his remarks noted above.
“Please explain, Mr. Gilsey,” said Nick. “Certainly, if there is a
deficit in your cash, and you suspect—— Ah, but stop a moment. Perhaps
it will be just as well, my dear Gilsey, if our interview——”
The last, spoken with lowered voice, was considered with a significant
glance in the direction of Gilsey’s private stenographer, who sat busily
engaged near one of the office windows, and Nick’s glance was equivalent
to a suggestion that the presence of a third party might wisely be
dispensed with.
This third party was a young woman named Belle Braddon, apparently about
twenty-five years of age. Certain features about her, however, which
Nick’s keen eyes were quick to notice, indicated that Miss Braddon was
in divers ways experienced beyond her years.
She was that type of girl quite properly termed dashing. Her figure was
striking, her face handsome, with mobile red lips, alluring blue eyes,
and cheeks with a soft tinge of color not entirely their own. She had,
too, an unusual abundance of wavy auburn hair, which was then arranged
in picturesque disorder. Regarded from top to toe, she was decidedly
noticeable, and the style of girl to which most men are quick to
respond.
Nick Carter, however, did not quite fancy the general appearance of Miss
Braddon, and he abruptly decided that her absence was desirable. In
response to the cue so quietly given him, the banker glanced at the
girl, and asked:
“What are you now at work on, Belle?”
Miss Braddon started slightly, much as if her ears had been deaf to any
preceding remarks, then turned with a gracious smile to her employer.
“On the quarterly reports which you dictated this morning,” she replied,
with a peculiarly clear and penetrating voice.
“You may drop that for the present, Belle, as I may change some of the
concluding pages,” said Mr. Gilsey.
“Very well, sir.”
“Are my letters ready for signing?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You may leave them on your table. As I shall be engaged with this
gentleman for some time, and will not require you later, I will excuse
you for the rest of the day.”
“Ah, thank you very much, Mr. Gilsey,” cried Miss Braddon, beaming
gratefully as she arose from her table. “That will be very nice, sir. I
can do a little shopping.”
The banker nodded and smiled, then reverted to Nick, and conversed with
him upon casual matters while the girl prepared to go. Apparently, Nick
did not notice her, but he nevertheless saw all that was worth noting.
As Miss Braddon put on a broad picture hat and her light wrap, her
expression became more grave and her cheeks lost some of their color.
Twice she glanced furtively at the detective, with a certain resentful
gleam in her pretty eyes. That it did not entirely please her, despite
her effusive thanks, was evinced in the slight curl of her red lips; yet
she presently bowed politely and departed, gently closing the office
door.
“An attractive girl, Gilsey, your stenographer,” remarked Nick
carelessly.
“Miss Braddon?” queried the banker, smiling complacently. “So she is,
Nick, and as capable and charming as she is showy.”
“I did not say showy,” laughed Nick dryly. “I said attractive.”
“Much the same, Nick, when applied to a woman.”
“Has she been long in your employ?”
“About four months.”
“Of course, she came well recommended?”
“Decidedly so,” bowed Gilsey; then he added, with a smile and headshake:
“You professional detectives are habitually suspicious of everybody, I
really believe. That girl is all right, Nick, take my word for it. Her
uncle, with whom she lives, is one of our largest depositors.”
“Ah, I see,” smiled Nick, a bit oddly. “Now, my dear Gilsey, why have
you sent for me? What can I do for you?”
The banker became grave in an instant.
“There are two reasons, Nick, why I have appealed to you,” said he.
“First, because we are old friends, and I know that you will do just
what I require upon this case, and no more than I require.”
“And your second reason?”
“Because I know I can safely trust you, Nick, and that you will give no
publicity to the case after having dropped it, providing your
investigations warrant dropping it. That is more than I could expect or
hope for from men of the central office, and so I have appealed to you,
relying upon our long friendship to influence you to aid me.”
Nick nodded gravely for a moment, noting the profound anxiety now
reflected in the banker’s venerable face.
“I certainly will do what I can for you, Gilsey, and you may depend upon
me to be discreet,” said he warmly. “Now, what is the trouble here? You
intimated that a deficit exists in your cash.”
“So I did, Nick, yet I am not sure of it.”
“Not sure of it?”
“That seems strange to you,” replied Gilsey. “I can explain in a few
words.”
“Well?”
“Mr. Cecil Kendall, one of my most trusty clerks, has been absent on a
vacation for several days. During the illness of our cashier, Mr.
Knights, for nearly three months, Kendall has been doing double his
share of work. He has handled the cashier’s end of our business, as well
as his own.”
“I follow you,” said Nick attentively.
“My own duties here are very arduous,” continued Gilsey, “yet, as far as
possible, I always keep an eye upon the work of all of my clerks.
Kendall, however, is a man of unusual ability, an expert accountant, and
a man in whom I have had the greatest confidence. His work on the books
has always been satisfactory, yet in doing double his ordinary duties it
would not be strange if some of his work had fallen a little behind.”
“That is true,” admitted Nick. “Do you find that the books are not in
proper shape up to date?”
“Unfortunately, I cannot tell,” was the reply. “Kendall went to Boston
to attend the wedding of his brother last Tuesday. He was to have
returned this morning, but has not yet appeared, nor sent me any word
explaining his absence. I am unable to tell in just what condition he
left his accounts. I know, however, that several large amounts were
received here during Monday, and also that considerable was used for the
payment of notes which came due that day.”
“I see, sir.”
“It was an exceedingly busy day for Mr. Kendall,” continued the banker,
“and he worked here Monday until compelled to leave to catch a late
train to Boston. I went home at my usual hour, about four o’clock, so
did not see him after he wound up his Monday work. Whether he has left
part of his work undone, depending upon memoranda of which I am
ignorant, I cannot say. All I know, Nick, is that he has not returned
to-day, as expected, and that there appears to be a serious deficit in
the cash accounts.”
“How serious?”
“Nearly ninety thousand dollars.”
“Whew! Serious, indeed!” exclaimed the detective. “Have you no way of
getting at the exact truth?”
“Oh, yes, it can be done,” replied Gilsey quickly. “But it would require
time, and occasion a publicity which I wish to prevent, for a day or
two, at least, in the hope that Kendall will return, or can be found,
and show that matters here are all right. In fact, Nick, I am inclined
to think they are, and that I am needlessly alarmed; yet, for the
protection of our depositors, I feel that I must take some step at this
time.”
“Quite properly, too.”
“I wish to locate Kendall as quickly as possible. I want him here, that
an explanation may be made. In case I am entirely wrong, however, and no
deficit really exists, I do not wish Kendall to learn of my misgivings,
and that I have employed a detective, the injustice of which would
seriously and needlessly wound him.”
“That is very true,” admitted Nick thoughtfully. “I now see about what
you want of me, Gilsey. You wish me to locate Kendall as quickly as
possible, and send or bring him here without disclosing your doubts and
apprehensions.”
“Exactly.”
“If he is perfectly honest, as you are still inclined to think, it
should be an easy matter to locate him before to-morrow.”
“Easy for one of your experience, Nick; and that is precisely why I have
called upon you.”
“Do you know Kendall’s Boston address?”
“I have already wired to his Boston friends.”
“With what result?”
“A message in reply states that Kendall left for New York last night.”
“Does it state by what route?”
“It does not.”
“Ordinarily, he should have arrived here this morning,” remarked Nick,
more gravely. “There is a bare possibility, Gilsey, that he is a victim
of foul play.”
“I have thought of that, Nick, which also deters me from acting too
hastily, or making any immediate charges.”
“Do you know whether Kendall had much money with him?”
“I do not.”
“If he had what you fear may be missing, Mr. Gilsey, he had a good,
round sum,” observed Nick dryly.
The banker shook his head.
“I cannot yet believe it,” said he gravely. “There are, too, other
parties whom I would spare the pain of knowing that I have unjustly
suspected Kendall of embezzlement, and gone so far as to call in a
detective.”
“What other parties, Gilsey?” inquired Nick, with brows lifting
slightly.
“I refer to Doctor Leonard Royal, of Fordham, the Episcopal rector, and
to his family,” explained the banker. “I infer from what I see of the
couple that Kendall is engaged to marry the rector’s daughter, Medora
Royal. He is, too, an intimate friend of young Harry Royal, the rector’s
only son, who went to Boston with him. It happens, Nick, that Doctor
Royal and I have been lifelong friends. I regard him as fondly as a
brother. In case I am wrong, Nick, I would not for the world have them
know that I suspect Kendall.”
“I see, my dear Gilsey.”
“In a nutshell, Nick, I wish you to locate him for me as quickly as
possible.”
“But not arrest him?”
For an instant the banker hesitated, then said huskily:
“No, Nick, not that. Not—not unless——”
“Ah, well, if any ‘unless’ creeps in, I shall know what to do without
instructions,” Nick bluntly interposed. “Now, Mr. Gilsey, give me
Kendall’s city address.”
“He occupies bachelor’s apartments in Fifty-ninth Street. Here is the
number. He has not been there to-day, however.”
“How long since you sent to inquire?”
“Less than an hour.”
“Is he a clubman?”
“I think not.”
Nick Carter replaced his note-book in his pocket, then arose and took
his hat from the banker’s table.