“That I don’t know. And I don’t much care, at present. But I should like to correct you in one little particular, Chick. It is Louden Powers and Andrew Lampton who have been calling him Howard Milmarsh. You did not hear him say much about it.”
“That’s true,” assented Chick reflectively. “Here’s a taxi. I called him up just now.”
“There’s an old man and a young lady waiting for you in the library, sir,” said the butler, as they went into Nick’s quiet house. “I told them I didn’t know when you would be back, but they said they would wait half an hour, anyhow. Perhaps by that time you might be home. They’ve been in the library an hour already. I was up there ten minutes ago.”
“They must want to see me rather badly,” was the chief’s comment, as he ran lightly up the stairs. “Did they give you their names?”
“No, sir. They said they would tell you when they saw you?”
“Very well!”
Nick opened the door of his library. As he stepped inside, he knew who his visitors were.
“Why, it’s the young lady who was in the fire that night,” he exclaimed, in a tone of warm welcome. “Miss Silvius, isn’t it?”
“Yes. And this is my father. If it hadn’t been for you, we couldn’t be here now. We wanted to see you so much, Mr. Carter. I didn’t know till to-day who it was that got us out of that fearful fire. I have not seen Mr. Gordon—I mean Mr. Milmarsh since.”
The detective shook hands with Bessie Silvius and her father, and then introduced Chick, who thought the girl wonderfully pretty, and showed it in his face.