“What? The great detective, who caught that gang of thieves in South America two years ago?” broke in Phillips. “Is this the great Nicholas Carter? It seems impossible that I can be talking to one whom I have thought of so often. Wonderful!”
Phillips delivered himself of these sentiments with the simple sincerity with which he said everything. He could hardly bring it to his understanding that he was actually face to face with Nicholas Carter, the greatest detective in the world.
“I shall have to send you home before I do anything else,” said Nick, turning to Claudia. “My chauffeur, Danny Maloney, is thoroughly dependable. He is much more than a chauffeur to me. He is often a very able assistant in my professional work.
“I have no doubt that he would take me home safely,” replied the girl. “But—I cannot go home now.”
“Cannot go home? Why?”
“I must go with you.”
“Go with me?” echoed Nick Carter. “I’m afraid that would be impossible. You could not run into the danger that may face me when I come up with the rascals who so nearly killed poor Phillips. You can see from that how desperate they are.”
“Nevertheless, I must go,” returned Claudia, with gentle firmness.
“It would be altogether too dangerous.”
“I expect it to be dangerous. That is why I want to come.”