"Oh, I'm a detective," answered Ralston lightly.
Sullivan started and clutched at the mattress.
"Detective!" he muttered. "What d'yer want?"
"I don't want anything," said Ralston. "I know quite a lot about you, Mr. Sullivan, but it stays where it is. All I want is a little help."
"You go to hell!" growled Sullivan.
"No—no!" replied Ralston. "Not yet. I want you to tell me where I can find Steadman. You see, his folks are anxious, and it's worth quite a little to me to locate him. It needn't interfere with any of your plans. Besides, I imagine you're about through with him, eh?"
The color returned to Sullivan's face and he snarled angrily.
"None of that to me, see? I am on to you, understand? You'd better get out of here, while you're still able."
The girl, who had remained silent, now spoke again:
"Be careful, Jim; this man can make trouble for us."