“You may go.”
When the messenger was out of the room, Carter turned to Mr. Wright, and said:
“This note shows that the woman suspected a trap.”
“No doubt,” Mr. Wright rejoined. “Read the note to me. I just glanced at it.”
“‘Mr. Peter Wright.
“‘Dear Sir: I cannot call on you to-day. I thought you were a gentleman, but I have discovered that I cannot trust you. After I left you yesterday I learned that you held a conference with Nicholas Carter, the detective, and he commenced to make inquiries about me. That man had better beware of how he meddles with my affairs. I know that you have that package in your possession, and if you turn it over to that detective, you will live to regret it. Yours very respectfully,
“‘Isabella Porter.’”
“Humph!” Mr. Wright ejaculated, when the detective finished reading. “That for her threat!” and the old man snapped his fingers together, while defiance shone in his eyes.
“One thing is certain,” Carter remarked.
“What is that?”