The Gordon Elopement; Or Nick Carter's Three of a Kind, Pt 4

The episode explores the impact of Nick Carter mystery stories on popular culture, highlighting how they influenced subsequent works of literature, film, and the creation of other iconic fictional detectives. The stories were serialized, making them accessible to a wide range of readers and reflecting societal anxieties and aspirations. The success of the Nick Carter stories led to adaptations in various media, and the character's influence can be seen in the works of renowned writers and filmmakers. The episode then continues with part 4 of the gripping 1915 mystery, "The Gordon Elopement," where Nick Carter uncovers evidence of a heinous crime and finds himself in a dangerous situation with the mastermind behind it.

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Transcript

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Hi friends and welcome to another episode of forward into the past. I am JC your host and narrator. And in today's episode, we're jumping right back into the 1915 Nick Carter mystery, the Gordon elopement, or Nick, Carter's three of a kind. The impact of Nick Carter mystery stories on popular culture can not be overstated. These thrilling tales written by various authors under the pseudonym, Nick Carter, captivated readers and left an indelible mark on the world of detective fiction. From the late 19th century to the early 20th century, Nick Carter became a household name, influencing subsequent works of literature, film, and even inspiring the creation of other iconic fictional detectives. Let's delve into the effect these stories had on popular culture. The Nick Carter mystery stories were among the first to introduce the archetype of the brilliant and resourceful detective. Nick Carter himself became a template for future detectives, influencing characters like Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poiroit and Sam spade. The Nick Carter stories were serialized, meaning they were published in installments within popular periodicals. This format allowed for a long lasting and consistent presence in readers' lives. Building a devoted fan base and establishing the trend of serialized storytelling that continues to this day. You regular listeners of the podcast can attest to the fact that Nick Carter stories were written in a straightforward and accessible style, which meant that the writing was appealing to a wide range of readers. This accessibility contributed to their immense popularity and helped democratize detective fiction, making it accessible to a broader audience. The Nick Carter mysteries also mirrored the cultural climate of the time. Reflecting societal anxieties and aspirations. These stories often featured themes of social justice, moral dilemmas, and the pursuit of truth resonating with readers who sought escapism and a sense of justice, in a rapidly changing world. The success of the Nick Carter stories led to numerous adaptations across different media. From stage plays to radio shows and later films. The character and his adventures reached audiences through multiple channels, further solidifying his place in popular culture. Nick Carter's impact can be seen in the works of many renowned writers and filmmakers. The characters influence can be seen in the detective fiction of Arthur Conan Doyle. Agatha Christie and Raymond Chandler among others. Even today, contemporary mystery writers draw inspiration from the Nick Carter legacy. As you can see. The effect of Nick Carter mystery stories on popular culture is undeniable. These stories not only laid the foundation for the detective fiction genre, but also inspired subsequent works across various media. They resonated with readers and continue to shape our understanding of the detective archetype. The legacy of Nick Carter lives on reminding us of the enduring power of a gripping mystery and a brilliant detective. And having said that. Let's once again, follow the trail of the brilliant detective himself and continue with the gripping 1915 mystery, the Gordon elopement, or Nick Carter's, three of a kind. Chapter seven. Henley shows his hand. It was indeed a clever bit of detective work that had enabled Nick Carter to form a theory consistent with all of the circumstances and the accumulation of evidence denoting that Arthur Gordon was guilty of the basest of treachery and the most heinous of crimes. And which would have been convincing not only to the public, but probably to all other detectives. Other than Nick Carter himself. He keenly realized, however, that a theory based only upon his own convictions was not enough. That absolute evidence was needed to convince others. And he was not long and hitting upon a plan by which he thought he could obtain it. Nick hurriedly explained it to Patsy, giving him a few necessary instructions. And he then sent him to call the suspected man from the kitchen. Henley came slouching into the library a moment later, with ginger trailing at his heels. He had a more lowering look in his shifty eyes. He had become impatient and suspicious during his long wait. He did not fancy his having been excluded from the conference of the detectives. It smacked of distrust of him and his resentment was manifest in his swarthy face. Nick saw it, of course. And at once took steps to dispel it. Pardon me Henley for keeping you waiting for so long, he apologized with a heartiness, well calculated to be convincing. I had no idea that it would take more than a few minutes to examine these articles. I am sorry to have kept you waiting. That's all right, Mr. Carter. Growled Henley with countenance lighting. Time ain't worth much to me. I reckon you'd want a good look at them. I have examined them carefully. Hedley. And what do you think about them? It looks like a bad mess indeed. Very bad. Nick said more gravely. So it does. Henley nodded. There ain't nothing to it, but murder that I can see. I'm inclined to agree with you. Nick replied. Sure thing, chief put in Patsy. What else can you make of it? It's dead lucky that we met Mr. Henley. He sure has put us on the right track. And he can do still more to aid us, supplemented Nick approvingly. I suppose, Henley, you are perfectly willing to assist us. You will be well paid for your services. I guarantee that. Your word's good enough for me, Mr. Carter said Henley consenting with a readiness denoting that his misgivings were entirely dispelled. I'm right here to lend you a hand. Say what you want, sir. And I'll do it. Good enough. Nick declared. We'll set about it at once. Uh, find the Butler, Patsy, and have him give you a pair of Gordon's shoes. I will look after those left by the girl. We'll leave these other articles until we return. I'll take the precaution, however, to lock the library door. Get Gordon's shoes and rejoin us in the car. Patsy hastened from the room, then started upstairs to say a few encouraging words to Mr. Strickland. And Wilamena. I wish to visit the spot where you found these garments Henley or where ginger nosed them out to be more correct said Nick taking only the pair of button boots from the table and thrusting them into his pocket. I'll show you. Said Henley. That won't take long. We will expedite matters by going in my car as far as possible. Nick added, bring along the dog. We may find him useful. He some dog, Mr. Carter, you can bet on that. He looks it, Henley. No mistake. Uh, one moment while I lock this door and remove the key. There. Now then we're off. Nick led the way out to the touring car in which Patsy presently joined them bringing a pair of Gordon's shoes. And in another moment they were speeding down the long driveway toward the Woodland road. Take us to the point where we picked Henley up Danny, Nick directed. He then can take the ribbons and show us the way. You can run a quarter mile farther, said Henley, that'll take us to the crossroad. It's rough going then, too rough for a buzz car. Ah, we will walk the remaining distance Henley, in that case. Nick replied all the while with an air of friendliness and appreciation of the services that appeared to deceive the swarthy ruffian. I think you said it is less than a mile from the road to the pond you mentioned.'Tain't more than half a mile. And just, where did you see Gordon and the girl last evening? Going through the crossroad. We traced them to the juncture of the two roads. It was a quarter mile from there that I saw them. Was Gordon carrying a suitcase. That's right, nodded Hanley. The girl had her jacket over her arm. The man had an ugly look and they seem to be in a fuss over something, but I couldn't hear what they said. I watched them till they turned a bend in the road. And that was the last I saw them. Gordon looked threatening, did he? I sure would have thought so, Mr. Carter if he had been looking at me. Henley forcibly declared. He looked fit to fight a dog. If Nick Carter had wanted further evidence of Henley's complicity in the knavish game that was being played, these last statements would have convinced him of it in view of his own discoveries and deductions. He did not betray his suspicions, but pretended to have entire confidence in the rascal, interrogating him along much of the same lines until Danny brought the car to a stop at the crossroad. Nick was the first to alight, followed by Henley and the hound while Patsy paused to question. Am I to go with you chief? Nick hesitated for a moment as if he'd given this matter no previous thoughts and he then said abruptly. No, you'll not be needed. Henley and I can look over the ground and accomplish all that can be done. Sure we can, put in Henley with ill-concealed eagerness. You return with Danny, Patsy, and keep an eye on those things in the library. There is a bare possibility that someone will try to destroy them, in case our suspicions are known. That's right too. Patsy quickly agreed. I thought you were taking a chance chief and leaving them there. Alright, you return and look after them. Nick repeated decidedly. I'll hoof it back with Henley after making an investigation. He won't mind the tramp. Mind it, be hanged cried. Hendley. Tramping round these diggings is the most that I do. Well that settles it then. said Nick. Back into the crossroad to make a turn, Danny and wait for us at Gordon's place. I got you chief, nodded Patsy. We'll keep an eye on things. Nick did not hasten his departure with Henley. He waited until Danny had turned the touring car and then watched it speed away with both of his assistants till it vanished around a near bend in the road. Henley stood silently watching him with a shotgun under his arm. There was a gleam of secret satisfaction, deep down in his shifty eyes and ominous curve in his thin lipped mouth. Both vanished instantly however, when Nick turned and said, Now Henley, it is up to you. I'll make good all right. Was the reply with covert significance, the detective was quick to notice. Lead the way then. I'll soon show you Mr. Carter. Henley added with the same sinister significance. Come on ginger. He's some dog Carter, some dog. Ginger, can't be beat. Nick did not reply. He followed the swarthy ruffian over the rough crossroad, stopping at intervals to study the ground stating that he wanted to examine the footprints of the missing couple, if any could be found. He delayed frequently in this way, but with an entirely different object in view. 20 minutes, brought them to a path through the Woodland, into which Henley struck without hesitation, remarking grimly. They must have gone this way. It was on this side of the pond that ginger nosed out the bloodstained togs. How far is the pond from here? Nick inquired following him. Not far. Henley gruffly assured him. It's over the hill, down into the valley. There's another path on the other side of it leading to a road running south. Toward Fordham then. Yeah. That's what. Gordon must have known about the pond. Tain't very big, but it's as deep as a volcano. The devil himself couldn't raise a corpse sunk to the bottom of it. Gordon knew that maybe. Hmm, quite likely Henley, quite likely since he evidently wanted to get rid of the girl, Nick allowed. Yeah. That's how it looks to me. Oh, bear off this way, sir. Henley strode away to the left and plunged through the bushes and underbrush, Nick following with ginger, bringing up the rear. 10 minutes, brought them in sight of the pond, shut in on all sides by a thick belt of woods. And Nick followed his uncouth guide down to the edge of it and to the spot he was seeking: a lonely and suitable place enough for such a crime as superficially appeared to have been committed. Here's the spot. Cried Henley. Pointing to some trampled shrubs and underbrush. There's the log where ginger nosed out the girl's hat and jacket. They were rolled up and thrust under it, then partly covered with dirt and leaves. Oh, yes. Yes. I see. Here's blood on the bushes and footprints in the ground and dry leaves as if the girl put up a fight to save herself from.. Stop a moment said Nick intently viewing the evidence mentioned. I want to compare these shoes with the imprints. Gordon's shoes. Yes. The button boots belonged to the girl. She left them in a house where she had been boarding. You went there after them? Questioned Henley with sinister scrutiny. Oh, yes, certainly. said Nick without looking up. By Jove, they correspond perfectly, Henley. There's no question about it. Nick was comparing both pieces of footwear with several impressions found in the damp earth. There was, as he had stated, no question as to the correspondence in size and shape, which was further evidence of who had been there the previous evening. It looks bad. Bad enough. He added after viewing the blood spattered bushes, the rough ground on all sides and seeking vainly for evidence showing in which direction Gordon had departed. You've made no search for the girl's body Henley, you said. Well, what's the use Henley asked with a growl. A hundred to one it's at the bottom of the pond. Very likely, admitted Nick with seeming uncertainty as to which course to take. Gordon wouldn't have waited to bury it. True again, Nick allowed. If only we knew in which direction he went. We could find that out easily enough. Henley interrupted with eyes gleaming for an instant. How so. Asked Nick though he had expected and been only waiting for these suggestions. How can we contrive to trace him? Leave it to ginger. You mean? Yeah, ginger will show you. Henley cut in. He can trail him like breaking sticks. He some dog, Mr. Carter, some dog. Wait a bit and I'll show you. Uh, give me one of Gordon shoes. By Jove! That's a good idea Henley. Nick cried as if he had not thought of it. He can get the scent from this, perhaps as you suggest. I ought to have been wise to that. Hey you ginger. Come here. Henley growled harshly. Come here you rascal. The hound bounded through the bushes and cringed at his master's feet. Henley seized him by the scruff of the neck and held to his nostrils the shoe the detective had given him. Then pointed to the larger of the imprints in the ground. Get after him ginger. He commanded producing a leather strap and hooking it to the dog's collar. Follow him up. After him, Ginger, you rascal. The hound, brightened up and appeared to know what was wanted. He began to bark until Henley cuffed him fiercely. And then he thrust his muzzle to the ground whining and eagerly tugging hard on the leather leash. Henley seized his shotgun from the ground where he had placed it, crying gruffly. I told you Carter, he's got the scent. Come on at my heels. Ginger'll trace him. By Jove, I believe you are right. Henley. Nick cried following. I know I'm right. He some dog, sir, some dog. Yeah, some dog, Henley, no mistake. Can you stick close? You bet. said Nick, as both plunged on after the hound. You can't go too fast for me. Well just sing out if I do. I'll hang on all right. You want me to carry your gun? Not much growled Henley. I'm used to this here business. Gordon evidently went round the pond instead of back to the crossroad. Yeah that's so. He most likely was heading for the other road. Yes, it looks so, for fair. Ginger'll trail him, leave it to ginger. The hound was plunging on all the while with his muzzle to the ground and was shaping a course through the woods and around the south side of the pond. Plainly enough, whoever planted this evidence wore the shoes Gordon had been wearing. thought Nick tramping rapidly on behind Hendley. That's evidence enough too, that he now is in the hands of this rascal's confederates. It would be very like Mortimer Deland, not to overlook a point as essential as that. Now where will this trail end? That's the question. It then was in fact almost the only important question and Nick Carter's mind. He felt that he had a correct answer for all of the others. He was not left long in uncertainty however, for the trail was not a very long one. 10 minutes, brought them to a narrow road on the south side of the pond. Though a quarter mile from it, and the hound started off to the left without a moment's hesitation. Another eighth of a mile, brought them to what evidently was an extensive private estate. There were low walls through the woods and a way off to the right could be seen at intervals when the trees and foliage did not hide them, the white stones and monuments of a distant cemetery. Who's place is this Henley, Nick inquired, while both scrambled over a low wall over which the hound had leaped. Do you know who owns this estate? Sure I know growled Henley over his shoulder. I know every place in these parts. Well, whose is it. It's owned by a man named Barker, colonel Morgan Barker, but he's in Europe with his family. The house hasn't been open for a year. Nick remembered the man and the place. Also the Barker tomb in which Mortimer Deland had temporarily concealed the art treasures stolen from Rudolph Strickland's flat in fifth avenue. And from which gruesome confinement Nick had rescued Patsy Garvin on the night of the Roundup. No additional evidence was needed to convince him that he had hit the nail on the head that Pauline Perot and Mortimer Deland were one and the same and that this notorious European crook was back of the knavery then in progress. It's dollars to donuts now, that the rascal has taken secret possession of Barker's unoccupied house said Nick to himself. It's the old Barker homestead and sufficiently isolated to serve Deland admirably for such a job. He knew all about it too. And that he would ordinarily be safe from intruders. I'll butt in on him now in a way he'll not fancy. The last scarce had crossed Nick's mind when they emerged into the cleared land back of the large old country house, stable and outbuildings. Ginger was still tugging on the leash and leaving the way between the buildings and toward the rear of the fine old dwelling. Not a word now came from Henley. Nick glanced sharply at the house while they approached it. Shutters protected all of the lower windows. The curtains at those on the upper floors were closely drawn. The surrounding grounds, an eighth of a mile from the nearest road shut in by the trees of an extensive park were entirely deserted and running to rank grass and weeds. When within 10 yards or the rear door toward which the hound was heading. Nick said abruptly. Stop a moment Henley. If our man is here. Here's here Carter all right. Henley cut-in gruffly. He swung round while he spoke and dropped the leash, then threw his shotgun into the hollow of his arm instantly covering the detective. He's here, Carter. He added with sinister significance. Don't you reach for a gun. Don't move, blast you or I'll pepper you so with buckshot, that you'll look like a sieve. Chapter eight. Face-to-face. Nick Carter's feelings upon seeing the sudden display of animosity by Pete Henley were not manifest in his face. He gazed at the swarthy ruffian with hardly a change of countenance, apparently indifferent to the double barrel gun with which he was covered. What's the joke, Henley? He asked coolly. The ruffian had murder in his eyes and looked as black and threatening as a Thundercloud. You're the joke, Carter, if there's any joke to it. He replied with a snarl. You've barked up the wrong tree and tackled the wrong bunch. Stick up your hands and be quick about it. Certainly Henley since you insist so politely, Nick rejoined raising his hands as high as his head. Keep them there now. But you might answer my question at least, and explain this sudden change of attitude on your part. You'll know soon enough was the reply. Followed by a short, sharp whistle. Ginger did not respond to it. He had disappeared around the corner of the house. Instead the back door was quickly opened and two, roughly clad men appeared on the threshold, both still under 30. One of them instantly darted back through the hall. And Nick heard him shout to another in one of the adjoining rooms. Henley meantime, growled harshly with his evil eyes constantly on the detective. Come out here, Foster, and get behind the Dick. Feel under his coat and get his guns. Kneel down while doing so, so I'll not hit ya. I'll plug him all right if he moves a finger. There will be no occasion Henley, you rat. Nick now said sternly. I value a whole skin too highly to take any chances against that blunderbuss in such hands as yours. I see now that you have served me a scurvy trick. Go as far as you like. You don't need to tell me that, snapped Handley. I'm on the way. Got him, Bill? Both of them, Jim, returned Foster who had hurriedly disarmed the detective and was threatening him with two weapons. Who is he? Nick Carter. Thunder. Where did you run up against him? If he. You're to bring him in Jim. cut in the man who had briefly vanished and now returned to the open door. His jags says. Is he out here Brigham? Henley interrupted with countenance clearing. Sure. Been here 10 minutes. That's more like it cried Henley. He can now take the ribbons. Get a move on Carter and stop a bit. Nick halted. Feel again, Foster and fish out his irons. Snap them on his own wrists, hands behind him. As he will on ours if he gets a chance. You've told the truth once Henley, at least. Nick put in dryly. But you'll never get the chance. Henley retorted. Dukes down and behind you, Carter or I'll pull the trigger. Don't trouble yourself said Nick obeying. Point the gun another way. It may go off by chance. Henley heard the snap of handcuffs around Nick's wrists and saw Foster straighten up after having secured him. And he then lowered the shotgun and grinned maliciously. You thought you with a real thing, didn't you Carter. He demanded. Get a move on and I'll show you what you're up against and where you stand. I can guess. Into the shack and no funny business. Mind ya or you'll hear something drop. If you live until you hit the floor. Lead the way Brigham. Where's his Jags. In the dining room Jim. Head that way. Plug along Carter, where he leads. Nick felt the prod of the ruffian's guns in the small of his back, but he had no intention of offering any objection. He followed Brigham into the house, a stocky ill favored fellow with fiery red hair. And in another moment he heard the door closed and locked behind him. The hall was dim when the sunlight was thus excluded. It ran straight through the spacious old colonial house to the front door. A broad, but angular stairway led up to the second floor. There was a damp and musty smell in the long closed dwelling. And the rooms on each side of the broad hall looked dusty, gloomy, and deserted. The exception in the last respect was the large dining room into which the detective was conducted by the three crooks. That room contained only one occupant however. The man in search of whom chick Carter had left the Gordon residence more than half an hour before. Mr. Edgar, Hereford Dayton. He was seated in one of the leather upholstered chairs pushed back from the polished table. He did not appear disturbed by what had occurred or by the advent of the detective upon the scene, though he gazed at Nick curiously when he entered, flicking the ashes from the end of a cigarette. His overcoat and hat were lying on a chair near the wall and near it stood a closed leather suitcase. Nick Carter identified him instantly as Dayton. And somewhat more than that when he spoke. Henley was the first to open fire however, addressing Dayton and saying gruffly the moment he entered. You'd better clean out that town office, old sport, or fight shy from it now on. I reckon this Dick has sent his right bower to keep an eye on it. At least wise, I don't see where else he would have sent him in such a rush. Nick suppressed a smile. It amused him to find that Henley was a bit more discerning than he had thought of. Dayton appeared unmoved by Henley's announcement and advice. He glanced at the suitcase mentioned. Then responded with a curious mingling of coolness and assurance that Nick was quick to remember. He is welcome Henley to inspect that office. It already is cleaned out of all that would interest me. Suppose instead of giving me needless advice, you tell me just what this meddlesome fellow is after and what he has been doing. By Jove, I'm not mistaken. Was the thought then in Nick's mind. This rascal has even more strings to his bow than I suspected. Well, that's quickly told. Henley began to reply. But better told firsthand. Nick cut in curtly with his gaze intently fixed on the man he addressed. I'll give you the information you want. I'll tell you what I'm after and what I've been doing. Ah, Dayton spoke with an icy drawl. Better first-hand indeed as you say. I do not yet place you, however, no. Oh, a truce to subterfuge. Nick again, interrupted curtly. subterfuge. You know me perfectly well, but not better than I know you. Indeed. You placed me. All right. As I sooner or later, will again, place you where you belong. Nick went on sternly, disregarding the others queries. A wig. A beard a reverse curve of the eyebrows a more florid skin an altered voice. It takes more than those to blind me. Though you might get by others. Fly your true colors, Mr. Mortimer Deland. And I'll tell you what I'm after and what I've been doing. Ah, That is great inducement. So great, that I find myself utterly unable to resist it. Deland replied with unruffled composure. He drew up a little in his chair, gazed steadily at the detective for a moment then raised his slender white hands to his head, deftly removing the exceedingly artistic disguise, which Nick alone had been able to penetrate, and which had fairly transfigured the mobile sinister clean cut yet strangely effeminate features of Mortimer Deland. Jim Henley and the two frowning crooks nearby evinced no surprise nor made any comments. That Deland was the master and they merely hirelings was perfectly apparent to the detective. It appeared obvious too, that Chick Carter must have arrived too late to have picked up the supposed Dayton before he left his office, a mischance that would seem to have badly aggravated the present desperate situation of the detective. Deland appeared to think so, too, for he smiled with vicious complacency while he tossed his disguise upon the table, saying with the same frigid voice and insolent assurance, which was so characteristic of him that they had at once betrayed him to the detective. Now. Having met you halfway Carter and complied with the stipulation you imposed, it is up to you to perform your part of the brief verbal contract. Sit down if you prefer, there are plenty of chairs. I regret that I cannot release you. But that would be injudicious for obvious reasons. Tell me now, as you promised, what are you after? and what have you been doing that my good friend Handley has rounded you up in this fashion? How will our hero get out of this predicament? Was this all an elaborate scheme by Mortimer Deland to get Nick Carter. And is Arthur Gordon still alive and helplessly in the hands of these ruffians? We'll find out in the thrilling conclusion of The Gordon, elopement, or Nick, Carter's three of a kind! Well, that is something. I can't wait to see how this whole thing ends. As a reminder friends, there are several ways in which you can help support this show. You can always become a monthly financial supporter or even just a one-time donor. It's entirely up to you by using my, buy me a coffee subscription page. If you're listening on an app, there might be a link that says something like support the show, or you can always just visit the website and click on that big yellow button with a coffee cup on it. And that will take you there as well. If you'd like to donate in a different way. Well, you can always purchase something from the merchandise store. Uh, back actually, there's two of them. An Etsy shop and a Shopify shop. Links are available on the Link-In-Bio of all my social media pages. Or again, just visit the website and click on the header labeled shop. Lots of different stuff in there. T-shirts coffee mugs, stickers. And not all of them are show related. 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