Nick Carter Stories No. 158, September 18, 1915: The blue veil; or, Nick Carter's torn trail. — John Shaqi
Nick Carter Stories No. 158, September 18, 1915: The blue veil; or, Nick Carter's torn trail.Carter, Nicholas (House name)
General
Nick Carter Stories No. 158, September 18, 1915: The blue veil; or, Nick Carter's torn trail.
Carter, Nicholas (House name)
Detective and mystery stories, American -- Periodicals; Popular literature -- Periodicals
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. 158.= NEW YORK, September 18, 1915. =Price Five Cents.=
THE BLUE VEIL;
Or, NICK CARTER’S TORN TRAIL.
Edited by CHICKERING CARTER.
CHAPTER I.
REMARKABLE TRICKERY.
Nick Carter listened without interrupting.
The man addressing the famous detective was not one to be wisely
interrupted. His strong face, his broad, thin-lipped mouth and square
jaw, the glint of his steel-blue eyes, his portly and imposing
figure--all denoted that he was the type of man that insists upon having
his way, his inning at the bat, as it were, but who then would
graciously accord the same privilege to another.
“The danger, Mr. Carter, cannot be overestimated,” he was forcibly
saying. “It really is very terrible. We are living in constant peril.
That man is a perpetual menace. Unless he can be wiped out of existence,
or put behind prison bars, there is no telling what he might accomplish,
no possible way to anticipate it and guard against it. I cannot for the
life of me understand how he got by a detective as marvelously keen and
discerning as you. I cannot, Carter, on my word.”
Nick smiled and knocked the ashes from his cigar.
“It is not very difficult to understand,” he replied, with patience
unruffled. “There were two reasons for it, Mr. Langham.”
“Two reasons?”
“Yes. One, because the likeness between Chester Clayton and David
Margate, or Doctor David Guelpa, in which character this exceedingly
clever rascal then was posing, is a most extraordinary one. I doubt that
two other persons could be found, not excluding the most perfect of
twins, who look so precisely alike.”
“But you already knew of that extraordinary resemblance, Mr. Carter,
when Margate eluded you and made his escape.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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