“Mr. Prescott, listen to me, I am a man not acquainted with fear, nor do I descend to fisticuffs. You see I am armed—now you can keep your distance and talk reason or else take the consequences.”
At sight of the revolver the artist started.
He seemed to suspect for the first time what manner of man he was dealing with.
“Are you a—detective?”
“I am, sir!”
“In his employ?”
“Mr.—the gentleman referred to is an old friend of mine. I have sworn to see him through this trouble.”
“Were you following me when this paper fell?”
“Yes.”