Nick Carter
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This book is Nick Carter's autobiography and self-help hybrid in which he chronicles his struggles with a dysfunctional family and the unimaginable rigors of becoming an internationally successful pop-star at the age of 12. From his battle with addiction to serious health complications and the pain of his younger sister's tragic death, Nick leaves nothing to the imagination and offers true and heartfelt advice to help readers overcome obstacles in...
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Excerpt: "Nick Carter caught sight of the couple only by chance. His touring car, in which he was seated with his chauffeur and Patsy Garvan, his junior assistant, was speeding through one of the winding driveways in Central Park, New York, and heading for Fifty-ninth Street. "Hold on! Slow down, Danny!" he cried to his chauffeur. "That woman has fainted, or is in a fit." The woman was lying on the greensward near a diverging driveway, and some fifty...
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Excerpt: ""Hello! hello! This is Frank Mantell talking. I want Mr. Carter-Nick Carter. Is he there?" Patsy Garvan, the detective's junior assistant, then alone in the library of Nick's Madison Avenue residence, was the recipient of the above telephone communication. It came over the wire in tones reflecting the haste and excitement of the speaker. Patsy remembered him, a son of the senior partner of the firm of Mantell & Goulard, whose big department...
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Excerpt: "The electric bell from Andrew Anderton's study rang sharply. It was close to the ear of the butler dozing in his little room off the hall at the back of the main staircase, and he awoke with a start. "Lord love 'im!" exclaimed that functionary, stalking to the door with as much haste as his dignity would permit. "Why doesn't 'e stop ringing? I 'eard 'im the first time, without 'im keeping the blooming bell going all the time." Then, as he...
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Excerpt: ""And so, you see, I stand to lose twenty thousand dollars." "That's a large sum." "Yes, Mr. Carter, it's a large sum; but a middle-aged gentleman like yourself ought to be aware that risks are sometimes forced upon people who handle money in large sums." The celebrated detective smiled as he looked into the excited countenance of the Wall Street man before him. Half an hour before, if the broker had seen him at all, he would hardly have...
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Excerpt: ""Man overboard!" Nick Carter-known to the captain and crew of the tramp steamer Cherokee as Sykes, the bos'n-heard this shout, taken up by man after man, as he lay stretched out on the foc's'le head, in the early morning, just as the ship nosed her way into San Juan harbor, on the northern coast of Porto Rico. The thrilling warning that somebody has fallen into the sea, which always sends a shock through both crew and passengers whenever...
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Excerpt: ""You'll pass for a Mexican in those togs, chief." "The 'togs,' as you call them, Chick, don't necessarily make any character. But there is nothing about a Mexican to distinguish him from other men except his costume, so I dare say I shall be a good-enough Mexican for the purpose." Nick Carter, the famous detective, regarded his reflection in the mirror rather disgustedly, and his speech came in angry jerks, unlike his usual calm, even tones....
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Excerpt: "A man and a woman together; then a man alone." Nick Carter thought this remark rather than uttered it in words, as he came to an abrupt pause in his walk and looked down upon the tracks in the snow. There were no other tracks than those anywhere visible, save only his own, which he had made in his approach to the spot, and he was careful not to approach too near while he made the examination which only his curiosity suggested-for there could...
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Excerpt: ""Message for Mr. Carter!" The wireless operator of the steamship Marathon, in the linen clothes and pith helmet ordinarily worn by white people in the tropics, came along the steamer deck with a slip of paper in his hand and stopped in front of a row of steamer chairs under an awning. "Where's it from?" asked the occupant of one of the chairs, springing to his feet. "From shore, sir-Calcutta." Nick Carter, who was holding out his hand even...
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Excerpt: ""Oh, no, I have not forgotten you. I never forget the face of a crook." The speaker was Nick Carter. His voice, though somewhat under ordinary pitch, had a subtle and ominous ring. There was a threatening glint in the eyes he had fixed upon the face of the man he addressed. It was a striking and impressive face, nearly as strong and impressive as that of the famous detective-but for directly opposite reasons. Nick Carter's face was frank,...
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Excerpt: ""There's no question in my mind, inspector, as to who did the job," said Nick Carter. "You feel sure of it, then?" "As sure as water runs downhill. I refer, of course, to the mechanical part of the work. I looked it over on the morning following the burglary, every part of the looted vault, and I am as sure of the cracksman's identity as if I had seen him getting in his work. Only one yegg in the business has the mechanical genius to crack...
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Excerpt: ""Slow down, Danny, and look out for that wire," said Nick Carter to his chauffeur. "It may be a live one." "I'm onto it, chief." "Onto it, eh? Don't you run onto it while I'm in the car, not if it's a live one. You may fancy absorbing the output of an electric-lighting plant, but not for mine, Danny, not for mine! I know what it would do to me. I've seen men electrocuted." Danny Maloney laughed, for it was obvious that the famous detective...
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Excerpt: "It was a fateful moment-one to be remembered. A fateful moment in the lives and fortunes of some to whom there then came no premonition of evil, no dread of the terrible sword that hung by a hair above their heads, upon whom was cast no shadow through the glare and glitter around them, amid the gay festivities in which each played a part. It was a fateful moment, one brought only by chance to the notice of Nick Carter. It was remembered...
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Excerpt: ""Extraordinary-that doesn't half express it. I know of no word that would. To some extent, Nick, at least, men's motives are usually discernible in their conduct. But in this case-why, there was nothing to it. It is utterly inexplicable. It was like a horrid dream, a hideous nightmare, or the mental abnormalities of a dope fiend." Nick Carter laughed and spread his napkin, with a significant glance at his chief assistant, Chick Carter, who...
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Excerpt: "In Thirty-fifth Street, east of Fifth Avenue, there is a house conspicuous among its neighbors in that it differs in construction by being of the variety known as the English basement style. Entrance to the house is secured through a door reached by one or two steps from the pavement. The dining-room of the house is nearly on a level with the street, while the parlors are on the second floor, reached from the lower hall by a flight of stairs....
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Excerpt: ""Well, Chick, it's good to strike little old New York again." Nick Carter jumped down from the railroad car and shook himself like a huge dog as his feet touched the stone flagging of the Grand Central Station. "You're not more glad to see New York than New York is to see you," piped a shrill voice, and Patsy, Nick's younger assistant, darted forward to greet his chief and Chick, who were elbowing their way through the crowd on the arrival...
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Excerpt: ""I feared you would not come." The speaker, a beautiful woman of two or three and thirty, half reclined on a sofa, in an elegant apartment. A gentleman, rather old, had entered the room. He was what he looked to be-one of New York's money kings. "It is for the last time, Louise," he said, toying with his watch guard. "And why for the last time?" For a second the woman appeared downcast, and then, rising to her feet, she said, pleadingly:...
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Excerpt: "A spear shot into the midst of the camp, and stuck, quivering, in the ground! Patsy Garvan and Chick jumped to their feet, rifle in hand, and looked inquiringly at Nick Carter. The detective had not moved. He was sitting with his back against a rock, a cigar in his mouth, and silently contemplating the small fire that he had consented to have made. When the spear came sailing over the bluff, at the foot of which was the little camp, he merely...
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Excerpt: "The members of Nick Carter's household all happened to meet at the breakfast table that morning-a rather unusual circumstance. The famous New York detective sat at the head of the table. Ranged about it were Chick Carter, his leading assistant; Patsy Garvan, and the latter's young wife, Adelina, and Ida Jones, Nick's beautiful woman assistant. It was the latter who held the attention of her companions at that moment. She was a little late,...
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Excerpt: ""Move on, old man, and go home!" It was the stern voice of one of New York's finest policemen that uttered these words. "Home! I wonder where it is?" muttered the old man to whom the policeman had spoken, and a shudder ran through his frame, as he slowly moved down the street. As he reached the corner near old St. John's Church, on Varick Street, he paused, rubbed his eyes and gazed dreamily around him. For some time before the policeman...