“Hola!” challenged a voice around the angle of the house.
Carroll recognized the voice. He stepped out of the shadows and strode across the open space. At the corner of the house he met the muzzle of a revolver pointing straight at the pit of his stomach. Back of it were the steady and now goggleless eyes of Luther Pruyn.
“I am unarmed,” said Carroll.
“Ah, it’s you!” said the other. He lowered his weapon, carefully whirled the cylinder to bring the hammer opposite an empty chamber, and dropped it in his pocket. “What do you want?”
“An explanation.”
“Quite so,” said the other coolly. “I’d forgotten that I invited you here. How long had you been watching me?”
“I saw you only when you came out from behind the house.”
“And you wish to know about—about my companion in this place?” continued the other in an odd tone.
“Yes.”
“Understand that I don’t admit that you have the smallest right. But to clear up a situation which no longer exists, I’m ready to satisfy you. Come in.”