“It would be foolish if you did,” returned Nick. “Anyhow, I’m not here to arrest you. I want to talk business.”
“Why didn’t you say so at first?”
“I haven’t had time to say anything, first or last,” rejoined the detective. “Have you anything on for to-night?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, you may as well pick up that bundle of money you’ve just dropped under the table. We can burn it later.”
Andrew Lampton grinned and picked up a roll of counterfeit bills which had been noticed by the sharp eyes of the detective as soon as they were put on the floor.
“Can’t fool you, Mr. Carter!”
“Not on some things, I hope. We are going to my house. Any of your pals in this house?”
“Not that I know of. Some of them were taken in the raid in Jersey City the other night, and the others are lying low for the present. I wasn’t in that thing, but I heard about it.”
“I supposed you would,” said Nick, with a smile. “Where’s T. Burton Potter?”