“Not bad ideas, either one of them,� said Nick. “And now, there is one more element that is bound to assist us before this game comes to an end. It is jealousy; and that is what I am most afraid of, just now. Red Mike cannot be very long in the society of Madge Babbington without being fascinated by her to the point of desperation. He will look on at her attempts to make Lynne in love with her with growing anger; and if the right sort of a climax should happen at the psychological moment, Red Mike would kill Lynne on the instant; and that is what I most greatly fear, just now. We must find a way to rescue him before such a thing as that can happen.�
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE SPIDER’S PARLOR.
For a short space let us look upon another scene.
Ordinarily we stay with the detective or his assistants from the beginning to the end of the Nick Carter histories, detailing the events just as he discovered them and experienced them; but occasionally, for the best interests of a story, and in order that the one who reads may comprehend it the more clearly, we are compelled to look ahead into things which came to the detective’s knowledge later on.
This is one of the occasions.
That same evening when Nick and Chick and Patsy were together in the study engaged in the discussion we have just read—and which we bid the reader to bear in mind—Carleton Lynne reclined in an easy-chair with a pillow behind his head and a hassock beneath his feet.
He was smoking a cigar, and was gazing amusedly, half smilingly, upon the beautiful face of Madge Babbington, who was seated upon a low wicker rocker only a few feet away from him.
They very nearly faced each other; they could have touched hands easily had they reached out to do so; and there was a taboret between them which bore an ash tray, a box of cigars partly emptied, a receptacle for matches, a book that Lynne had been reading before Madge came into the room, a tiny pair of scissors, and some skeins of silk with which Madge was plying the embroidery work that she was engaged upon.
It was in reality quite a domestic scene.
The room was large; it was exquisitely appointed; there was a suggestion of voluptuousness and ease everywhere, and there was the evidence of artistic effort on every hand.