“No, I don’t think he would come,” replied Louise. “I talked with him about the case; he is a particular friend of mine”--she made a lamentable failure in an endeavor to call up a blush--“and he said to me that he felt certain he knew the gang that did it. I implored him to take a hand in the search for your poor dear father.” “And he promised to do so?” interjected Miss Field. “No,” answered Louise, “he said he had given up the business and did not care to do any more detective work. I pleaded with him and finally he said he would think the matter over.” “But how am I to see him?” “He visits me frequently,” replied the visitor. “He is to be at my house to-night. You might drive there. Here is my card.” The address on the card was No.--West Twenty-seventh Street. “You have not told me this wonderful man’s name.” Louise hesitated for a moment, and then she said: “It is Elmer Greer.” The mention of the arch rascal’s name was not a surprise to Nick Carter. He saw through the game from the start, and he was greatly amused at the woman’s tactics. “Will you come?” Louise asked, rising to depart. “I don’t know what to do,” replied Mignon. “I will first consult a gentleman friend of mine.” Louise laughingly said: “Ah, you, too, have your little romance!” Had she known the gentleman friend that the banker’s daughter intended to consult, her mirth would not have been very exuberant. “Bring him along, if you choose,” said she, kissing the girl and bidding her good-by. It was the kiss of a Judas. When she had gone Mignon returned to the detective. “You have heard all; what shall I do?” Miss Field asked. “Go.” “Do you know this man, Elmer Greer, whom she so highly praises?” “I am quite well acquainted with the gentleman,” replied Nick. “Indeed, I would like to know him better. I cannot describe how glad I am that I came here.” “Is he a good detective?” inquired Mignon. “He is not a detective.” “Who or what is he, then?” “He is the man who had your father carried off,” replied Nick Carter. The girl screamed and the servants rushed in, but she ordered them out. “And does this woman know he did it?” asked Mignon. “Yes,” replied the detective, “and she had a very large hand in the affair herself, or I am greatly mistaken.” “Heavenly powers! can such things be?” cried the banker’s daughter, “and the traitress dares pollute his grief-stricken home with her presence!” “She is capable of doing anything--that is, anything that this Elmer Greer, who is really her husband, tells her to do.” “And you would advise me to go to her house?” “I most certainly would,” answered the detective. “I don’t think I could bear the ordeal of standing face to face with the wretches and talking to them,” said Mignon. “Why, I looked upon that woman as a friend--nay, as more than a friend; I stepped across the social gulf that divides us and made her my companion and confidante. Oh, I cannot go!”