“What is it to you, Carter, anyway? Why are you putting me through the wringer in this fashion? What are you trying to dig up? I tell you right here and now that you’ve got nothing on me. My relations with Cyrus Darling were open and above board. He was the only one guilty of any duplicity. I was the one deceived--and his wife! What are you out after, anyway?” “You are evading my question,” Nick said pointedly. “What question?” “Who is the man with whom you talked this afternoon?” Nick repeated. “If you are strictly on the level, as you assert, you should be willing to tell me.” “Willing be hanged!” snapped Kate inelegantly. “You make me tired, Carter, when you get one of these meddlesome wasps in your bonnet. Why, I am more than willing to tell you, if you are really anxious to know.” “Tell me, then.” “The man was Jim Dacey, a very good friend of mine,” said Kate. “That’s why he came to tell me that he had seen a car thought to be yours at the Darling residence. He even went and looked up the number, to be sure of it.” “But why did he hasten to inform you?” “He feared that I might be involved in some way because of my relations with Darling, so he came to put me on my guard,” Kate glibly explained. “But there was no occasion, not the slightest occasion.” “Indeed?” “Not the slightest,” Kate forcibly repeated. “Who is this man, Dacey, and where does he hang out?” Nick then inquired, not yet in a position to contradict the woman. “Why was he going to the Darling residence? What is his interest there? Why did he----” “Stop a moment!” Kate exclaimed, lurching forward in her chair. “What do you think I am, Carter, an information bureau? I’ll stand for this no longer. I don’t know what you suspect, nor care, and you evidently don’t intend to enlighten me. It’s a mighty poor rule that won’t work both ways. I’ve told you all I’m going to tell you. If you want to learn more of Cyrus Darling, or of Jim Dacey, or of Sheldon and Floyd--go and question them. You’ll get no more out of me.” Nick saw that she meant it. “Wait and see,” he remarked, rising. “I can wait,” Kate retorted. “Go elsewhere with your questions.” “That is precisely what I shall do.” “Go ahead, then. It’s up to you. Go where you please--I’m going to bed.” CHAPTER VI. BIRDS OF A FEATHER. Nick Carter had an object in not revealing his suspicions to Kate Crandall and attempting to force a different story from her. He had seen plainly that such an attempt would be useless, that the woman felt secure in the position she had taken and was prepared to stick to her statements. Nick believed very few of them, however. He keenly realized, nevertheless, that they ordinarily would appear perfectly plausible, that a woman is always given the benefit of a doubt in such cases, and that her story would be very generally accepted unless he could find positive evidence with which to refute it.