“Well, will I do?” he asked.
His assistant drew a deep breath. “You’re the real thing,” was the enthusiastic comment. “I never saw you turn out anything better than that.”
A moment later Ida Jones, Nick’s beautiful woman assistant, entered the room. She, too, was to play a part in the sketch that had been so hastily staged. Nick waved one trembling hand toward her.
“For an old friend, my boy, you don’t seem to be on your job. Is it possible you don’t recognize ‘Mrs. Bainbridge?’”
Patsy looked bewildered for a moment, and then broke into a grin. “Mrs. Bainbridge, eh?” he queried. “So you’ve taken a wife for the occasion, have you? Is she going with us?”
“Of course. She’s devoted to her husband, and it wouldn’t do, you know, for you to take me there alone. We’ll have to have a woman along to fuss over me and make the thing seem real.”
The young assistant’s grin broadened. “Well, I must say I admire your taste,” he remarked, with a wink. “I could have told you long ago that Ida is just the girl for you.”
Miss Jones laughed. “None of that, Patsy,” she said laughingly. “If the chief ever comes to think of me as a girl, he’ll fire me as sure as fate.”
Nick looked at her admiringly. “I’m not quite as bad as that, Ida,” he said. “Give me credit, please, for knowing that you’re a girl, and a remarkably attractive one. But you’re a corking good detective, also, and I’m afraid that interests me more. No more nonsense now, you two. It’s time to go.”