He stood but a few feet from the detective, and Nick noticed that the hand which held the weapon did not quiver.
There was a desperate man behind the six-shooter.
“What do you want?” suddenly demanded the stranger.
“I want to see you.”
“Well, I’m here.”
“George Richmond, we have not met for some time.”
The stranger laughed.
“George Richmond, eh? You don’t take me for that worthy, do you?”
“You are that man and no one else,” was the reply. “I am here to tell you this in spite of the menace of the revolver.”
“Well, what do you want with George Richmond?”