“Not at the Obelisk?”
“No. We were to go to a room.”
Montgomery’s desk-chair was a massive piece of furniture, with high carved arms running from back to seat.
With a quick movement Nick slipped the man’s wrists together, one hand under the arm.
The next moment he had snapped on the handcuffs, securing Montgomery to the chair.
Owing to the height of the chair arms the position was not uncomfortable.
“Oh, Mr. Carter,” cried the voice of Louise Lansing from the door, “is it a necessary cruelty?”
“For a little while only,” answered Nick. “I have prevented the steal that your uncle, in connection with Ramsay—or Yasmar, as you have known him—and his accomplices, tried so hard to accomplish.
“Ramsay is wanted in Montana for another crime, but your uncle I shall leave in your hands.”
Nick turned to John Lansing.