Powers sniffed scornfully, and lighted a cigarette, to show how much at his ease he was. Andrew Lampton was discreetly silent. He had not the bravado of his companion.
“The crowd has gone back,” announced Patsy, who had been at the telephone. “They got tired of waiting for Bonesy, and they took that train which went out an hour ago. It’s lucky for these two guys that they didn’t come back. The station agent tells me they was as hot as fresh tamales. If it hadn’t been a three-mile walk, some of ’em was coming back to lick the pair of ’em, just for luck.”
“It is just as well,” put in Nick. “Come over here, Billings. I want to talk to you.”
The result of a minute or two of private converse between the detective and Billings was that the big truckman smiled grimly and stood by the door of the dining room, to indicate that he was ready to obey orders at once.
“You see, Chick,” explained Carter to his principal assistant, “I want you to come back with me to New York, and it would be asking too much of Patsy to guard those two men alone.”
“He could do it, all right,” returned Chick. “I don’t think they would get away if Patsy wanted to hold them. Besides, there are menservants in the house.”
“I don’t depend on servants, Chick—especially when they are new and have no personal interest in the place in which they are employed. You remember we heard two of them talking about their situation when they did not suspect that they were overheard?”
“When we were behind that big picture?”
“Yes. So I’ve engaged Billings to stay here and act as a sort of sergeant at arms while we are away. He and Patsy together will insure Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton being here when we return.”
“What are we going to do about Howard Milmarsh?” broke in Louden Powers, who had been wondering what the detective was talking about, but could not very well inquire. “I think I’d better go down to New York and look around.”