Lying on the floor, handcuffed, George Richmond looked up into Carter’s face and grinned.
“For conspiracy, eh?” he said. “That’s news to me.”
“It’s better for that than murder,” was the answer, and then Carter took his prisoner away.
“Now for the other birds,” said the detective, as he turned from the station house.
He proceeded uptown and, late as it was, rang the bell of the Lamont mansion.
For some time no one answered him, and then he heard footsteps inside.
“It’s Opal herself,” thought Carter, as he waited for the door to open.
Yes, it was the handsome daughter of the dead millionaire, and she maintained her composure as she looked into the detective’s face.
“It’s a late call, miss,” said Carter, as he stepped inside. “But it is a case of necessity. I’ve found your father.”
“Indeed?”