Still Ida made no reply.
“Who does Nick Carter think did it?”
Ida continued her silence.
“What have you got onto since you’ve been here?”
Ida did not answer that question.
“Why don’t you answer?” said the man, roughly. “I’ll make you answer mighty quick.”
Still Ida did not speak.
The man, losing his temper, attempted to reach her by passing around the table, but Ida edged away until their positions were reversed, and she stood where the man had, and the man was where she had stood.
The door was open behind her. She made a dash for it. The man seemed prepared for that, for he violently pushed the table aside and sprang after her.
Ida, drawing her revolver, whirled about, and, leveling her gun, called out: