Morton finished his speech by walking over to Carpenter’s chair. He whisked the money from the blackmailer’s hand and placed it in his own pocket.
“It’s time this racket was ended,” he declared. “I guess you have found easy money here at Seaview City. Well, that’s ended now!”
Herbert Carpenter had regained his composure. He knew that he was in a bad spot, and he was prepared to work his way out, if possible.
“We are even, Morton,” he said quickly. “I am willing to call it quits—”
“You are willing!” snorted Morton. “Of course! You have enough nerve — I’ll grant you that. But it won’t help you out this time! When I say your game is ended, I mean it. You can’t touch me, Carpenter! When I’m through with you, you will be behind the bars. You crook!”
Herbert Carpenter made no response to the final impeachment. With an air of resignation, he settled back in his chair. The difficulties of his present situation did not seem to worry him.
“Think I’m going to feel softhearted?” questioned Morton. “You will have a long time to wait. When I testify, enough will come to light to convict you — but not enough to injure me.”
“The letters,” remarked Carpenter, in an easy tone. “Keep them!” defied Morton. “Whoever brings them to light will be incriminated with you. Those letters are dynamite in any hands other than mine.”
Wheeling, Morton turned to his secretary. Gorman blinked through tortoise-shell glasses as he awaited his employer’s bidding.
“Call the police!” ordered Morton.