“Mr. Williams sent me here to see if you had been followed. Directly you went we had information from an agent of ours that your visit was known to the Secret Service. Tell me, did any person speak to you on your way here?”
“No,” answered O’Sheill, now thoroughly nervous by the other’s anxiety.
“Are you sure?” he was asked.
“There was one fellow who asked me for a light, but I told him to go to hell and get it.”
“Anything suspicious about him?” Trent demanded.
“Not that I could see.”
“That will be good news for Mr. Williams,” Trent returned. “Our agent said the Hunchback was on the job.”
“Who’s he?” O’Sheill said.
“One of our most dangerous enemies,” the younger man retorted. “He’s a man of forty, but looks younger. He had one shoulder higher than the other and he limps when he walks. He’s the man we’re afraid of. I think we have alarmed ourselves unnecessarily.”
O’Sheill’s face was no longer merely uneasy. He was terror-stricken.