Miriam's proud figure sagged. No further sound escaped her. All the color left her face. She looked old and haggard. Kate thought she was about to fall, and made a step towards her. Miriam stiffened with hate, and Kate fell back.
"What shall we do with this man?" asked the sergeant.
"Take him to headquarters," said Jack. "Watch him well. You've got the cleverest crook in America there."
"Much obliged for the compliment," said Evers coolly. "May I speak to you a moment, alone, before they take me?"
"No, Jack, no!" Kate cried involuntarily.
Jack silenced her with a smile. "Search him for weapons," he said.
The detectives frisked their captive efficaciously. Nothing more dangerous than a pen-knife was revealed.
"Go into the front room," Jack said to Evers. "No use trying a window, because there are four more men in the street." He motioned to the detectives to remain at the doors. He followed Evers.
In the middle of the gaudy blue salon Evers turned with his queer smile. "I suppose you don't want to shake hands with me."
Jack was nonplussed. He felt that he had no business to be liking the man and yet—he did. "One must draw the line somewhere," he muttered. "After all you murdered my benefactor."