There was a subtle tone in the old man’s remark.
“Perhaps,” agreed Hasbrouck. “But there is no proof of it; and Buchanan does not have Middleton’s habit of dropping out of sight. However” — he paused, then decided to continue — “that matter will be settled tonight.
“Middleton is coming to New York. He has an appointment with a friend. I expect to meet him at the friend’s home and learn what he knows.”
THERE was a ringing challenge in Hasbrouck’s voice. It seemed as though the detective was offering a last chance to Glendenning, giving the old man an opportunity to reveal whatever he might know.
There was no response from Glendenning. He merely stared. Hasbrouck shot a glance toward Larkin. The secretary’s face was immobile.
“This interview,” said Hasbrouck, “may be our last meeting, Mr. Glendenning.”
“It will be our last,” replied the old man coldly.
Hasbrouck did not like the tone. His gaze wandered slowly about the room. He took in its simple furnishings. He meditated for a moment, and the howling of the wind disturbed his thoughts. It reminded him of the menace he had felt when he stood outside the house.
“Our last interview,” he said quietly. “Very well, Mr. Glendenning. That brings me squarely to the point at issue. It concerns your niece — Miss Margaret Glendenning.”
“Well?” asked the old man querulously.