“Tully Ross got here just before the guard was found. Come along upstairs while I question him.”
They were waiting for the elevator when a short, thick-set man hastened in. He was scowling and obviously had been routed out of bed.
Merritt Hughes turned to greet the newcomer and as he recognized him there was no cordiality in the greeting.
“Hello, Adams,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“I’ll bet you didn’t,” snapped the other, “but don’t think for a minute you can bull-doze my nephew and get away with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know darned well what I mean. Didn’t you just phone Tully Ross and order him down here; didn’t you practically threaten him?”
“I wouldn’t call it exactly a threat, but I did tell him to get down here at once if he knew what was good for him. No clerk is going to be impudent with me.”
Merritt Hughes spoke firmly and calmly, but there was something in the flash of his eyes that told Condon Adams that he had gone far enough.
“If you want to come along while I talk with Tully, you’re quite welcome,” he added.