“Give me your hand,” cried the broker, and most joyously did he grasp the other rascal’s hand. Nick Carter’s fingers itched to lay hold of the pair. He took from his pocket a small phial filled with oil and a piece of wire. After carefully oiling the lock of the door connecting the two rooms, he easily shoved back the bolt. Then, opening the door, he quietly stepped into the room. The word “surprised” will fail to describe the astonishment of the three persons. “What means this intrusion, sir?” asked the broker, angrily. “Where have I seen that young fop before?” was the question Greer put to himself. “I dropped in to have a chat,” said Nick, seating himself in a chair near the door opening on the hall; he had locked the door of the apartment he had just left and the key was in his pocket; “I accidentally overheard your conversation.” The two started as if they had been bitten by an adder. “How dare you?” cried Elmer, approaching the officer in a threatening manner. “Don’t come so close, please,” said Nick; “I dislike familiarity. There were some things you did not explain quite as clearly as I would have them.” “What do you mean? are you a madman?” said the broker, quaking with fear. “Leave this room or I will call for help and have you put out.” “No, you won’t, and, besides, three men, or two and a girl, ought to be able to handle me,” said the officer, pulling off his whiskers; “I guess Elmer Greer will tell me where the missing banker is.” “Great heavens, we are lost!” cried Greer; “it is Nick Carter!” “Not yet!” exclaimed Louise, springing upon the officer with a knife which she had concealed in the folds of her dress. The detective had paid no attention to the girl’s movements. Had he done so, the three rascals would not have stepped over his bleeding body as they left the room. CHAPTER V. THE BANKER’S DAUGHTER. Nick Carter was found by one of the hotel employees, who notified the clerk. Upon opening the dude’s coat they saw the detective’s badge. A doctor was sent for, who, after carefully examining the wound, declared it but a trivial one. Louise Calhoun had stabbed the officer in the neck, within half an inch of the artery; had her knife penetrated that, Nick’s race would have been run. The wounded man was very weak from loss of blood, but when he had been given a stimulant he insisted upon leaving. This the doctor refused to permit; ordering him to remain quiet for a few days, until the wound had completely closed, lest he should get cold in it. Nick determined therefore to stop at the hotel. Early next morning a porter came to the detective’s room to tell him a lady wished to see him. “Did she send up her card?” Nick asked, and he received a reply in the negative. “She said,” volunteered the servant, “that you would not know her by her name, but that it was a matter of importance both to you and to herself that she should see you.”