“I told the truth about you, and you can guess what it was, for I won’t tell you,” laughed Edith, in reply. “But hurry and get rid of her, for I want you to go out a ways with me.”
Nick went to the parlor.
No man ever had a greater control of his features than the famous detective. He always maintained his self-control under the most trying circumstances. He had more than once looked certain death in the face without blinking.
But he had as narrow an escape from betraying himself as he ever met with, when, on opening the parlor door, he saw the Brown Robin occupying one of his sofas.
The shock was momentary and not observed by the other.
Nick crossed the room, bowing before his visitor, gravely, and said:
“I am Mr. Carter, madam.”
The Brown Robin arose from her seat and looked most keenly and curiously into his face. Nick would have been dull indeed, if he had not also seen the look of admiration that grew on the face of his visitor.
But it did not affect him. Indeed he was just then striving to guess what the game of the Brown Robin was in seeking him at his own home.
“I should be much pleased, Mr. Carter,” said the Brown Robin, “if you would listen to what I have to say and give me your advice.”