"Well, then, you keep whistling all the time you are alone here," Nick sternly commanded. "I will let you out of my sight to make these changes, but not out of my hearing."
"Suspicious fool!"
"Fool or not, you keep whistling," said Nick, bluntly. "If you let up for so long as a second, I'll come over yonder threshold in a way that you'll not fancy."
"But suppose I want to brush my teeth?" inquired Cervera, with a vixenish light in her evil eyes. "I cannot whistle and brush my teeth, Detective Carter."
"You'll have plenty of time to brush your teeth at the Tombs," said Nick, sharply. "Now look lively, mark you, and—keep whistling."
Cervera at once began to whistle.
Nick removed the key from the chamber door, and sauntered out into the hall, where he kept his ears constantly alert.
Not for a moment did the whistling cease, nor was there the slightest change in tone or character.
Nick could not have taken a more effective method to serve his present purpose.
At the end of eight minutes the whistling ceased, and Cervera coldly cried: