“I see.”
“If you will go out there with me, Carter——”
“Stop a moment,” Nick interrupted. “You said you picked some of Duffy’s torn papers from the wastebasket and found printing on them. Have a look at this letter. Were the printed letters that you found like these, or similar?”
Nick leaned forward with the last and tossed the Redlaw letter upon the table.
Conroy instantly picked it up, suspecting nothing.
It was the opportunity for which Nick had been paving the way.
He seized a drooping fold of the tablecloth, then gave it a jerk that instantly whisked the cloth from the table, carrying with it books, papers, magazines, and Jack Conroy’s revolver, scattering all of them over the floor.
Then, with a lightninglike move, Nick’s hand shot across the table and seized the beard of the startled man.
Conroy shrank back with a terrible veil. His beard, his glasses, a neatly fitted wig—all were torn off by the detective’s irresistible hand, revealing the ghastly, horrified, rage-distorted face of—David Mack.[Pg 31]
“Aha! I thought so,” Nick shouted, leaping to his feet and reaching for his revolver. “You are the chief abductor, Mack, after all.”