The room was about ten feet square, had paneled side walls and contained a table and four chairs.
It was lighted by an incandescent bulb, pendant from the ceiling.
Gillman showed a good deal of surprise when he discovered that the newcomer was not Ramsay.
“Well, well!” he exclaimed, his right hand groping under his coat. “Who are you and what’s your game?”
“My game is to call yours, Gillman,” answered Nick, sternly, his right hand in his coat pocket. “Bring that hand out in front of you! I’m covering you with a gun.”
Gillman brought the hand slowly to the required position.
“You’ve been crowding me pretty close for the last hour or two,” said he. “What do you want, anyhow?”
“I want you.”
With his left hand Nick brought out a pair of handcuffs.
“What do you want me for?” queried Gillman, sweeping his eyes shiftily around the room.