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. 159.= NEW YORK, September 25, 1915. =Price Five Cents.= DRIVEN FROM COVER; Or, NICK CARTER’S DOUBLE RUSE. Edited by CHICKERING CARTER. CHAPTER I. CAUSE FOR SUSPICION Nick Carter waited, listening intently, listening vainly, with his desk telephone in his hand and the receiver at his ear. Chick Carter, the celebrated detective’s chief assistant, sat watching him, noting each changing expression on his strong, clean-cut face, and wondering what occasioned it. It was about nine o’clock one evening in October, and both detectives were seated in the library of Nick Carter’s spacious residence in Madison Avenue. “Hello!” Nick now called quite sharply. “Hello!” No answer. “What’s the trouble?” Chick inquired. “Don’t you get a reply?” “No, Chick, and that’s not the worst of it,” Nick said quite gravely. “Why so? What do you mean?” “I heard my name called just as I removed the receiver from its hook,” Nick explained. “The voice sounded like that of a woman, though I am not positive about it. Then came a single sharp crack, like the report of a revolver, or as if the telephone had dropped from the speaker’s hand and crashed upon the floor. I suspect there is something wrong.” “Can you hear anything now?” “Not a sound.” “Call central,” Chick suggested. “You may learn who rang you up.” “Presently. I still am hoping to hear something of more definite significance.” One minute passed. It brought no sound over the wire. The silence then was broken by a voice which Nick knew must be that of the exchange operator addressing the person who had rung him up. “Did you get him?” No answer. Nick waited a moment longer, then cried abruptly: “Hello, central!” “Well?” “This is Nick Carter talking. I can get no reply from the party who rang me up. What’s the trouble?”