“I guess you and I have met before,” Nick said, playing with his mouse. “What might your name be at present?”
“None of your infernal business, you bloody cockney!”
“Elmer Greer, you are my prisoner.”
Greer reached for his pistol, but before he could draw it, Nick Carter struck him between the eyes, knocking him down.
In an instant the detective had securely handcuffed his prisoner.
“This is an outrage,” cried Elmer. “What have I done? Are all strangers who come to New York treated like this?”
“Well, no.”
The detective removed his wig and whiskers, saying:
“I guess you will remember seeing me before?”
“Nick Carter!” involuntarily exclaimed Greer.