Mantelle almost foamed with rage as he saw Nick, dressed so exactly like himself that it would seem that his best friends must be deceived.
Chick mounted a chair and looked through the transom.
“You must be going,” he said presently. “The woman in the parlor is becoming anxious and keeps opening the door a crack.”
Nick bent over Mantelle, lying helpless on the floor, and took a peculiar-looking pin from his scarf. Then he took a diamond ring from the prisoner’s little finger.
Mantelle squirmed under his bonds, but could not resist.
“I can use these to good advantage,” said Nick. “And, by the way, Mantelle, I think I have seen these before.”
The prisoner looked as if a little cursing would relieve his mind, but he did not at that time have the power to make a loud sound.
“The woman is at the door,” said Chick.
Nick opened the door and stepped out into the hall.