“Gladly,” returned Carpenter, rising.
He stood in the center of the room, a smile upon his face. Then he walked quietly toward the door, and stopped with one hand upon the knob.
“You want me to leave?” he quizzed calmly. “Shall I go — before we talk?”
Something in the man’s suave expression made Gifford Morton hesitate. He sensed that Carpenter was playing a game that might have serious consequences. He realized that it would be wise to hear the man out.
“Sit down,” he said gruffly. “Maybe this is a joke. Let’s hear the rest of it.”
“The rest of it,” declared Carpenter, “will cost you ten thousand in addition — the amount of your winnings tonight. That is a penalty — for referring to me as a rat.”
“What’s the game?” demanded Morton sullenly.
CARPENTER took a chair and faced the multimillionaire. He smiled knowingly as he began to speak.
“We have been quite friendly since you arrived in Seaview City,” said Carpenter. “That was due to the fact that my name was mentioned to you by an acquaintance in New York. You were told to look me up when you came here.”
“What of it?”