Nick Carter Stories No. 123, January 16, 1915: Half a million ransom; or, Nick Carter and the needy nine. — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Nick Carter Stories No. 123, January 16, 1915: Half a million ransom; or, Nick Carter and the needy nine.
John Stuart Mill · en
“Lest you resort to subterfuge, however, and appoint some one who
would make trouble for us, Nick Carter for example, instead of
rigidly following our instructions, which is imperative to the
safety of your daughter, we appoint a representative who should be
entirely satisfactory to you--Mr. David Mack, your junior partner.
“It is up to you, now, to command him to rigidly follow our
instructions. Any deviation from them will be fatal to your
hopes--and fatal to your child.
“David Mack will hear from us later. A personal interview with him
is necessary. He must do precisely what we direct. As long as he
does, he will be in no personal peril. If he attempts trickery,
however, he will meet the fate of a trickster. No more need be
said. There remains only to act. And upon how you act--all will
depend.
“David Mack must make no move, however, until he hears from me. He
will be given explicit instructions, which he must follow to the
letter. Beware of any deviation from them--and of the vengeance of
“RALPH REDLAW, Chief of the Needy Nine.”
Twice from beginning to end, without once looking up from the
pencil-printed sheet, Nick Carter read this threatening communication,
with its amazingly audacious demand. His face did not reflect his
thoughts. If he read between the lines the answer to Chick Carter’s
pertinent question, or even a hint at the answer, his serious,
unchanging countenance did not reveal it.
John Madden watched him anxiously.
David Mack gazed at him with fixed and searching scrutiny.
Neither banker broke the silence until the detective looked up from the
printed sheet.
“Well, what do you think of it?” Mack then asked bluntly. “Isn’t it the
limit? Could you beat it?”
“How to beat the rascals is a more pertinent question,” Nick replied,
with grim austerity.
“True. That goes without saying.”
“What are your views, Nick?” Mr. Madden asked, more gravely. “I am
anxious for your opinion.”
“The scoundrels mean business, Mr. Madden,” Nick replied, glancing again
at the letter. “I take no stock in this signature, Ralph Redlaw, Chief
of the Needy Nine. The name is fictitious. Furthermore, I don’t believe
that there are nine persons engaged in this felony. Crooks seldom take
chances by trusting so many confederates unless the size of the
conspiracy requires it. That is not essential in this case. Four or
five, or even three, could have done the job as easily as nine. This
entire signature is only a blind.”
“Surely,” Mack nodded. “That’s my opinion.”