It was all perfectly true from Nick Carter’s standpoint, but the detective himself would not have put it in that way, or boasted of it at all. “Of course, you may confide in me or not, as you please,” Green Eye continued, warming up as he gained self-confidence. “Tut-tut!” ejaculated Griswold, with a somewhat pained expression. He had come, with reason, to believe that wealth would buy anything, and he was not quite prepared for this show of indifference. “I meant no offense, Mr. Carter, you may be sure. As I said, though, this is a very ticklish business——” “We’ll take that for granted,” Gordon quietly interrupted. “Were you going to give me the details, Mr. Griswold?” His cool, almost insolent tone gave no hint of the turmoil of impatience raging within. What was he about to hear, and what use would he make of it—in other words, how much could he make it yield him in cold, hard cash, or crackling bank notes? CHAPTER VIII. THE ABSCONDING TREASURER. For a time it looked as if the millionaire newspaper proprietor meant to resent the supposed detective’s effrontery in some way, but he managed to swallow his wrath, and, after reseating himself and angrily fingering his watch chain, got down to business. Probably he had decided that it would be very poor policy to have words with a man of Nick’s reputation, especially when he was badly in need of the detective’s services. After clearing his throat, he began: “I have explained it all to Mr. Cray, here, but perhaps I had better go over it again, in my own way. The case is in connection with the relief fund which my papers, headed by the _Chronicle and Observer_, have raised for the Hattontown sufferers.” Gordon nodded almost imperceptibly. The terrible fire at Hattontown, which had destroyed a large part of one of New England’s busiest little manufacturing cities, had occurred while he was still in prison. He had read of it, however, in the papers to which he had access in the prison library, and for that reason he was familiar with the main facts. Hundreds of residences and business blocks had been destroyed, with an appalling property loss and a considerable loss of life, as well. Thousands of persons, men, women, and children, had been rendered homeless and penniless. That was where Griswold’s chain of newspapers had taken a hand. Always quick to respond to such emergencies—largely, it is to be feared, for the advertising it gave them—they had started to raise a fund for the destitute victims, and, thanks to their tremendous combined circulations, the amount had soon attained imposing proportions. Part of it had been paid out for the immediate needs of the victims, but most of it, according to the latest reports Gordon had seen, was being retained for more permanent aid, to provide work, homes, et cetera.