"Ah—good evening!" said I. "You are looking for Mr. Markheim, I suppose?"
Well, the fellow looked a good deal surprised at that, but he wouldn't admit it—not he.
"Yes, of course," said he, to draw me out.
"This is splendid!" I said heartily. "We were afraid our telegram hadn't reached you. He's just inside in this cabin. Won't you go in?"
The room lighted automatically as the door was pushed inward. He entered, I pulled out the cards and slammed the door behind him just as the clamor of our arrival at the hospitable Hoboken shores drowned out all immediate danger of his cries being heard.
But I ran down the stairs to the car like—like the very deuce, as my dear father used to say. And climbing into my place I leaned over and slipped the revolver into Dick's pocket.
"Drive like Sam Hill!" I commanded in a fierce undertone. "I've just locked Pedro into the fireman's washroom and he's not going to like it very much!"