Lockwood treated the detective to one of his most disconcerting stares, and said,
“You, a detective, and ask such a simple question! Why, since there are but a very few Japanese in this town, and since one of them left on that milk train, and since all the rest are accounted for, and only Nogi is missing—it doesn’t seem to me to require superhuman intelligence to infer that it was Nogi who took his departure.”
“And who was mixed up in the murder of Doctor John Waring?” cried Morton, exasperated beyond all caution by the ironic tone of Lockwood. “And, unless you can explain some matters, sir, you may be considered mixed in the same despicable deed!”
“What matters?” Gordon Lockwood asked, but his already pale face turned a shade whiter.
“First, sir, you have a large number of unpaid bills in your possession.”
The secretary’s face was no longer white. The angry blood flew to it, and he fairly clenched his hands in an effort to preserve his usual calm, nor even then, could he entirely succeed.
“What if I have?” he cried, “and how do you know? You’ve searched my rooms!”
“Certainly,” said Morton, “I warned you I should do so.”
“But, in my absence!”
“The law is not always over ceremonious.”