“Well, here I am.”
The half-dressed man stepped forward, but the moment Carter advanced a step he picked up a chair and with the fury of a maniac threw it above his head.
The old landlord behind the detective uttered a terrified cry and retreated, and as he held the only light there was, the room was wrapped in darkness.
Carter struck a match, and at the same time thrust forward his revolver.
But the match revealed nothing.
George Richmond was gone!
For half a minute Carter stood like a person in a dream, but a sudden cry from the old man aroused him.
“He’s crept under the bed, sir,” was the cry.
With a light laugh Carter sprang forward and caught hold of the foot he found.
The next moment a bullet whizzed past his head and then he dragged the rascal forth.