“It’s a clever scheme, Mr. Margate,” said Patsy, as if impressed with the feasibility of the audacious scheme. “No less accomplished a man than you, nevertheless, could pull off such a job.”
“I’ll make good, all right.”
“Very likely.”
“And in spite of Nick Carter,” Margate added, with a sneer.
“I really begin to think so,” Patsy allowed, as dismally as if he really meant it. “How have you contrived to reduce Clayton’s flesh and bring him down to your weight?”
“By means of a compound Busby has provided. Tha[Pg 31]t’s why he’s in the game. I gave him the formula, and he delivered the goods.”
“How could you administer it to Clayton without his knowledge?”
“Easily,” said Margate, with an evil leer. “It is tasteless and colorless. It was only necessary to inject it into Clayton’s cigars.”
“Ah, I see,” said Patsy. “Very clever, Margate, indeed. I remember that you are well informed about certain kinds of drugs and poisons, chiefly those that serve your own evil ends. It strikes me, Margate, that——”
“Never mind what strikes you,” snarled Busby, interrupting, after a whispered conference with Dunbar and Haley, the latter having returned a few moments before.