“Good evening, Scoville,” said Clayton. “I think Miss Alcott is expecting me.”
“Oh, it is you, Mr. Clayton,” was the reply. “Yes, sir, she is. Walk in, gentlemen, and come this way.”
“The butler, Nick,” Clayton whispered, taking the detective’s arm.
Nick nodded indifferently and allowed himself to be conducted through the hall.
Scoville turned into the nearest room, a front parlor, the others following.
“One moment, gentlemen,” said he. “I’ll switch on the light.”
He did so while speaking, and Nick Carter then saw into what sort of a net he had walked—but entirely voluntarily.
Three men with ready revolvers were confronting him.
Scoville instantly drew another.
Clayton, or Clayton’s double, quickly closed the door[Pg 34] through which they had entered, then turned and said sharply: