“What’s the meaning of that?” Nick asked himself. “They may have gone to make sure the abducted woman is still in safe keeping. Be that as it may, it’s long odds that Floyd will rejoin them sooner or later. I have no course but to stick to him. I’ll head him off, by Jove, and see what he will say for himself.” Nick did not immediately do so. He shadowed Floyd, instead, to one of the leading jewelry firms, who were large importers of diamonds and other gems, and through one of the broad plate windows he saw Floyd speak to the senior member of the firm and then retire with him to his private office. Half an hour passed before Floyd emerged. He paused and shook hands with the merchant, bowing and smiling as if he had not a care on his mind, much less a burden, and he then left the store and walked briskly to a near hotel, entering the barroom and buying a drink. Nick suspected what he was doing all the while, but he was not absolutely sure of it, and he continued the espionage. Passing through the hotel office to keep an eye on his quarry, he suddenly came face to face with Floyd in the adjoining corridor, the latter having just left the barroom. It was an opportunity for which Nick had been waiting. He stepped directly in front of the man, saying familiarly: “Hello! You’re just the man I want to see, Mr. Floyd. Give me half a minute, will you?” Floyd knew Nick Carter by sight. If he had seen a ghost, he would not have turned more pale for a moment. That he was a man of extraordinary nerve and self-possession, however, appeared in that, aside from his momentary paleness, not a feature of his clean-cut face evinced a sign of fear, or even secret perturbation. “You are Mr. Carter, I believe,” he replied, looking Nick straight in the eye. “Yes.” “Why have you stopped me? What can I do for you?” “Tell me what you know about the Imperial Loan Company,” said Nick, straight from the shoulder. Floyd heard him without a change of countenance. “All that I know may be told with a single word--nothing,” he replied. “You know of the concern, don’t you?” “Yes.” “Are you acquainted with the managers?” “Yes.” “Well acquainted?” “So well acquainted, Mr. Carter, that I am not inclined to discuss them with any detective, not excluding yourself, before knowing the purpose of his inquiries,” Floyd said coldly. “If you know only good of them, Mr. Floyd, a detective is the very man with whom you should be most willing to discuss them,” Nick retorted. “I will not argue the point,” Floyd said, flushing slightly. “There is no occasion,” said Nick. “Do you know anything about the inside workings of this loan company?” “What do you mean, sir, by inside workings?” “The methods they employ.” “I already have said, Carter, that I know nothing about them, aside from a personal acquaintance with the two managers,” Floyd stiffly asserted. “Mr. Garland is a gentleman. Mr. Hart is another. That is all I can tell you.”