NICK CARTER STORIES _Issued Weekly. Entered as Second-class Matter at the New York Post Office, by_ STREET & SMITH, _79-89 Seventh Ave., New York. Copyright, 1915, by_ STREET & SMITH. _O. G. Smith and G. C. Smith, Proprietors._ Terms to NICK CARTER STORIES Mail Subscribers. (_Postage Free_.) =Single Copies or Back Numbers, 5c. Each=. 3 months 65c. 4 months 85c. 6 months $1.25 One year $2.50 2 copies one year 4.00 1 copy two years 4.00 =How to Send Money=--By post-office or express money order, registered letter, bank check or draft, at our risk. At your own risk if sent by currency, coin, or postage stamps in ordinary letter. =Receipts=--Receipt of your remittance is acknowledged by proper change of number on your label. If not correct you have not been properly credited, and should let us know at once. =No. 156.= NEW YORK, September 4, 1915. =Price Five Cents.= BLOOD WILL TELL; Or, NICK CARTER’S PLAY IN POLITICS. Edited by CHICKERING CARTER. CHAPTER I. THE WOMAN FOUND DEAD. The telephone communication was from Arthur Gordon, the prominent New York banker and broker, then a candidate for election to Congress on the Fusion reform ticket--a communication so sensational in character and so imbued with alarm and anxiety on the part of the speaker, that it evoked only the following terse, decided response from Nick Carter, to whom the frantic appeal had been made: “I will go right up there, Mr. Gordon. I will be there in ten minutes.” “What’s the trouble?” The inquiry came from Chick Carter, the celebrated detective’s chief assistant, when Nick arose from his swivel chair and hurriedly closed his roll-top desk. “A murder has been committed, or said to have been,” he replied. “A murder--where?” “Columbus Avenue,” Nick said tersely. “Arthur Gordon is under arrest for the crime. The woman’s body was found by--but we’ll get the details later. You had better go with me. Luckily Danny is at the door with the touring car. We will lose no time.” Both detectives were leaving Nick’s Madison Avenue residence when the last was said, hurriedly putting on their overcoats while entering his powerful motor car. In another moment both were seated in the tonneau and speeding north through the crisp air of the October morning. It then was nine o’clock. Nick had hurriedly given Danny, his chauffeur, the Columbus Avenue address of the house in which the murder was said to have been committed, and he remarked, a bit grimly to Chick, while they settled back on the cushioned seat: “By Jove, it’s strange how Gordon repeatedly gets into trouble.” “I should say so.”