“Perry Lamont, the millionaire,” was the answer. “They’re all birds of the same feather, even the girl. I had a narrow escape from her, but a miss is just as good as a mile. She may know ere this that I don’t lie dead in the parlor of the old mansion on Cedar Street. I want a place at the peephole to-night, Clara.”
“It’s at your service.”
“I won’t need it after to-night.”
“Are you going to close in on them?”
The detective nodded.
“Which one did it?” eagerly asked the girl.
“Never mind, Clara. I won’t make any mistake.”
“Of course not. You never do,” proudly answered the tenant of the house.
Carter had set his time, but he could not prophesy what the coming hours were to bring forth.