“He told me to fix the gentleman at a certain table—that’s all I know.”
“Look here! You’ve played a cool hand for a great villain, and if anything happens to the girl I’ll hold you, in part, responsible. Who was the man?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know,” cried Carter, and again his hand fell upon Caddy’s shoulder. “You didn’t do all this for a total stranger. They don’t do such things in the Trocadero. You know that man! Now who was he?”
The little man could not avoid the sharp eyes of the best detective in New York, and he felt the hand on his shoulder grow more viselike as the question was put.
“Tell me. That or Sing Sing!” said Carter.
“He’s a rich bloke’s son,” answered Caddy.
“That’s not enough. Who is he? You know!”
“They call him Claude Lamont.”