“I know you do!” interrupted the man, crossly, “and so does everybody else, but you can’t see!”
“Can’t see when I have eyes,” retorted Nick, with a queer smile, and he pushed by the man into the building.
The man was astonished.
He had not expected this stranger to defy him, and there was something so commanding in Nick’s quiet way of doing things that he had let both detectives pass before he knew it.
Then he followed them into the office, blustering:
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
“It’s my business to be here,” said Nick, coldly. “I am a detective, and my name is Nicholas Carter.”
“Oh!” exclaimed the undertaker, and his eyes grew large. He did not seem to be able to take them off the famous man, of whom he had heard so much. “Oh!” he added, after a pause.
“If that makes a difference,” said Nick, “you may show us the body.”
“Certainly, anything you want, Mr. Carter. Only too proud.”