“And that’s not the only place he’s been to, nor all he——”
“One moment, Henley,” Deland coldly interrupted. “I will hear you presently. Permit Mr. Carter to have his say. What more, Carter; what more?”
“Oh, there is a good deal more, Deland, if I chose to tell you all of my discoveries and deductions,” Nick now said, more sternly.
“Ah, indeed?”
“So much, Deland, that it would reveal in every detail the knavish game you have been playing,” Nick went[Pg 34] on forcibly. “But you have overplayed yourself, over-estimated the value of your cards.”
“My cards?”
“Have you not learned in all the years you have lived in vice and crime that three kings, well played, will invariably beat three knaves?”
“See here, Carter——”
“Oh, you wanted me to have my say,” Nick went on sternly, interrupting. “The three kings you have been up against, Deland, are Patsy Garvan, Chick Carter, and myself—three kings in the detective deck. You, Deland, are single-handed the three knaves—yourself, the man Dayton, and the supposed murdered girl, Pauline Perrot. Three knaves, Deland, never beat three kings.”
“You say—you say that I am Pauline Perrot?” gasped Deland, with his wonderful nerve shaken for the first time.