“Not a word, sergeant.”
“It’s not known by many that the big dick is in town, and he don’t want it known at present,” Brady impressively explained. “Nicholas Carter is at the Wilton House under the name of Blaisdell.”
“Faith, is that so?” Donovan’s face lighted. “Sure, he can dig out the truth, sergeant, if any man can.”
“Gleason said he would telephone to him at once and send him here to size up the case,” Brady added. “He ought to show up within twenty minutes. You return to your beat. I’ll stay here and detain the girl until Carter comes.”
“All right, sergeant.”
“You can leave by that door through which we came in. Go ahead. We’ll not want more of you to-night.”
Donovan touched his helmet and hurried away.
Sergeant Brady gazed after him for a moment; then turned and entered the wardroom, when an ominous frown instantly settled on his face.
Miss Mabel Smith had departed.
There remained only the nurse, Agnes, then engaged in putting the narrow cot in order. Brady strode toward her, asking roughly: