“A rather disagreeable surprise,” Lumsden managed to say, making a strenuous attempt to control himself. “It’s nothing you know anything about, you know, and I’ll be all right, never fear.”
Harold Lumsden played the part that night, for there was nothing else to do, and the traditions of his profession demand that an actor or actress should always appear, unless ill in bed, no matter what news may have been received, or what tragedy may have been left at home.
But some idea of the sort of performance the famous star gave on that memorable occasion might have been gathered from the newspaper comments the following morning, for all the critics seemed to agree that Lumsden was far from himself, and that his conception of the part was strangely heavy and lifeless.
Such was the effect of Green-eye Gordon’s second demand. There were other letters—several of them, in fact—but we need not trace their influence here.
There was no doubt that the blackmailer had struck some stunning blows, expecting that gold would flow from the wounds thus inflicted.
CHAPTER XLVII.
THE BLACKMAILER ADVISES HIS VICTIM.
Ernest Gordon was inclined to consider the world a pretty good place, as he finished his breakfast in Nick Carter’s dining room the following morning. Everything had gone very well, thus far, and he seemed to have reason for self-congratulation.
He had peddled the letters around himself the night before, thus saving time, and making it more difficult to trace them, as he believed. He did not know that he had been shadowed throughout by Chick, who thereby knew just what victims the blackmailer had chosen for his first broadside.