“Not in the least. I'll do all I can to help the illusion, both for the sake of Murray Davenport that was and of you that are. It wouldn't do for a conception like yours—so original and bold—to come to failure. Are you going to turn in now?”
“Not if I may go part of the way home with you. This snow-storm is worth being out in. Wait here till I get my hat and overcoat.”
He guided Larcher into the drawing-room. As they entered, they came face to face with a man standing just a pace from the threshold—a bulky man with overcoat and hat on. His face was coarse and red, and on it was a look of vengeful triumph.
“Just the fellow I was lookin' for,” said this person to Turl. “Good evening, Mr. Murray Davenport! How about my bunch of money?”
The speaker, of course, was Bagley.
CHAPTER XVII — BAGLEY SHINES OUT
“I beg pardon,” said Turl, coolly, as if he had not heard aright.
“You needn't try to bluff me,” said Bagley. “I've been on to your game for a good while. You can fool some of the people, but you can't fool me. I'm too old a friend, Murray Davenport.”