The settled paleness of Flood’s clean-cut, forceful features when Nick entered the room was the only outward sign of his recent brief excitement. He greeted the disguised detective with a careless nod, saying indifferently:
“Good morning, Badger. What brings you here at this hour? There’s seldom anything doing before noon.”
“I know it, Mose,” replied Nick, with a glance about the room to learn who was there. “I did not come to make a play.”
“For what, then?” asked Flood, smiling curiously. “Merely to make a social call?”
“Not exactly that, either,” returned Nick. “I want a few words with you, Mose.”
“With me, eh? Well, Badger, here I am; so you may out with them.”
“If it’s all the same to you, Mose, I’d prefer to see you alone.”
Flood began to suspect that his caller wished to borrow some money, an experience to which he was by no means a stranger, and a look of less concern rose to his face.
“You may come to my private room, Badger,” said he, leading the way, and closing the door after they had entered. “Sit down if you like. Now, what can I do for you? Are you strapped, or running low?”
It was the same room in which Flood had paid Kendall his ninety thousand dollars, and, incidentally, included the deck of strippers with which he had dealt himself a loser.