“More and more like a novel, Nick.”
“Yes. When she snapped on the lights, a man who had been seated at the table in the middle of the room sprang to his feet—and she found herself looking into the muzzle of a revolver.”
“Well, it wasn’t the first time that Nan has done that. It might have scared most women half to death; but Nan——”
“I rather think that she was more surprised and startled by the appearance of the man himself than by the weapon he held in his hand,” said the detective, interrupting. “The man was Jimmy Duryea; Bare-Faced Jimmy; at least she says it was—and is.”
“And—is?”
“Yes. I’m coming to that.”
“All right.”
“The room was, of course, in a blaze of light. In the man who confronted her, Nan saw the face and features of Jimmy Duryea. On the table where he had been seated was a confused heap of the spoil he had stolen, and was engaged in sorting when Nan interrupted him.”
“And she was looking into the muzzle of a gun,” commented Chick.