“I mean in Philadelphia.”
“That is my business.”
“Answer me, or it will be worse for you. You are here on the Ethel Romney case.”
“Suppose I am, what then?” asked Ida, boldly.
“Well, you won’t do much locked up here, will you?” asked the man.
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Ida. “You can’t tell.”
The man did not know what to make of that answer and did not reply for a moment or two. Then he said, roughly:
“Nick Carter thinks that the one who did the girl came here.”
Ida made no reply, but she was thinking hard.
“He’s wrong. It was a New York swell. You’re working on the wrong lay.”