Nick smiled grimly. “Follansbee is an extraordinary man,” he answered. “As you say, he already knows that I have a lot of dangerous evidence against him. That very thing, though, may drive him on to fresh crimes, on the theory that he might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb. If he thinks Crawford is doomed—as he evidently does—another life is of no consequence. I suspect that he really counts on getting rid of me. He implied as much this afternoon. If he tries that, though, he’ll have his hands full, shrewd as he is.”
Nick got up suddenly. “Enough of this,” he said. “We might keep on theorizing all night, but I prefer action.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to try to sound Stone, if possible, and that’s where you’ll come in.” He nodded to his assistant. “I’m going to make use of that nice little introduction you prepared for me at Miss Worth’s,” he added significantly.
Patsy was on his feet at once. “You don’t mean to say——” he began.
Nick smiled. “Precisely,” he replied. “I’m going to occupy that bed next to Stone. I’ll be your convalescent friend.”
CHAPTER XLII.
THE DETECTIVE ACQUIRES A WIFE.
“Now, then, my boy,” the detective went on, pointing to the telephone on his desk, “you’ll oblige me by calling up Miss Worth and telling her that your friend has agreed to place himself in her hands. Say that he’ll arrive there about half past nine to-night.”