She met Nick with a lively flash of her dark eyes, and said agreeably, as they shook hands:
“I am pleased to see you, Detective Carter. I do hope you’ll excuse my husband’s appearance, however, for he looks dreadfully with those red flannels around his neck. A sore throat has confined him to the house several days, and he insists that nothing but red flannel bandages will cure——”
“Oh, never mind my looks, Claudia,” interrupted Badger petulantly. “Mr. Carter can put up with my looks, I’m sure, and probably he has more important business than that of discussing the curative virtues of red flannel bandages.”
“No apology is necessary, Mrs. Badger, I assure you,” smiled Nick, as he accepted a chair. “I did have a little business with you when I started for here this morning, but I do not now regard it as important.”
“How is that?” inquired Badger, with a furtive gleam of distrust in his watchful eyes.
“It has lost the element of importance,” laughed Nick. “I did intend to question you closely as to the personal appearance of the rascals by whom you were robbed, Mrs. Badger, but since I have now seen one of them myself, I need make no inquiries. I have no doubt that the rascal I encountered was the same by whom you were robbed.”
“You don’t mean that you, too, have been robbed?” exclaimed Claudia, with countenance reflecting profound amazement.
“Exactly,” nodded Nick.
“When?”
“This morning.”