Keith gave a little wave of his arm, as if he would sweep away his insolence.
"I have come to warn you that old Adam Rawson is in town hunting you."
Wickersham's self-contained face paled suddenly, and he stepped a little back. Then his eye fell on the clerk, who stood just inside the door. "What do you want?" he demanded angrily. "---- you! can't you keep out when a gentleman wants to see me on private business?"
The clerk hastily withdrew.
"What does he want?" he asked of Keith, with a dry voice.
"He is hunting for you. He wants to find his granddaughter, and he is coming after you."
"What the ---- do I know about his granddaughter!" cried Wickersham.
"That is for you to say. He swears that he will kill you unless you produce her. He is on his way here now, and I have hurried ahead to warn you."
Wickersham's face, already pale, grew as white as death, for he read conviction in Keith's tone. With an oath he turned to a bell and rang it.
"Ring for a cab for me at once," he said to the clerk who appeared. "Have it at my side entrance."