“We’ll discuss that in the room where I previously talked with you,” said Nick. “I refuse to discuss it, or anything else, as long as you keep me in this place.”
“Is that so?” sneered Margate. “Listen, then! When you leave it—you’ll leave it for a worse place.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Can’t you guess? Hold on! Keep your hands in front of you!”
Nick was stealthily reaching toward his hip pocket.
Margate’s sneering voice had taken on a fierce and threatening ring. His right hand leaped into view at the lighted window, and a revolver was aimed point-blank at the detective’s breast.
“Don’t try to pull a gun, Carter, or you’ll be a dead one on the instant,” he now threatened sternly.
“Ah!” Nick exclaimed, casting subterfuge to the winds. “You know me, then.”
“You bet I know you,” sneered Margate, with vicious asperity. “I have mighty good cause to know you. I’ve been wise to you from the first—and I now have you where I want you. You’re going to pay the price for what you put over on me a month ago.”
“I see,” Nick said coolly, despite the ominous outlook. “You’re a very clever fellow, Margate, after all.”