“You wish to know what I am after. I am after a rascal who has been playing a very extraordinary game, so extraordinary that he might have won out and accomplished his evil designs--if I had not butted into the game to thwart it.” “Ah!” drawled Deland. “That makes it very unfortunate for him--but doubly unfortunate for you, perhaps.” “That last word is well added.” “Indeed?” “You will agree with me later.” “I seldom agree with men of your vocation,” said Deland, smiling ironically. “Be good enough to explain, Mr. Carter. I do not quite get you. For whom are you seeking?” “For Pauline Perrot--said to have been murdered by Arthur Gordon,” Nick replied curtly. “Dear me, is that so?” smiled Deland, with eyes narrowing. “I remember Gordon. It was he who started you on my track several months ago, with very disastrous results. I would not grieve deeply, Carter, if evil did befall Mr. Arthur Gordon.” “I am very well aware of that, Deland,” Nick said dryly. “Your assurance of it is entirely unnecessary.” “Pauline Perrot, eh?” queried Deland, unruffled. “Said to have been murdered. She is Gordon’s stenographer, I believe. I think I have seen her coming from his business office. Murdered, eh? What are the circumstances, Carter? Have you succeeded in finding her--or what is left of her?” “Yes,” Nick said shortly. “Dear me, is that so?” Deland did not, in fact, then suppose it was so, Henley being the only one of the four crooks then informed of what the detective had discovered. “I not only have found all that is left of her, but also all that she left behind her,” Nick pointedly added. Deland’s eyes took on a sharper gleam and glitter, his thin lips a more sinister and threatening curve. The tinge of color in his cheeks waned perceptibly. His long, slender fingers closed involuntarily, until their carefully manicured nails bit into his palms. He laughed, nevertheless, in a cold and mirthless fashion, while he echoed inquiringly: “All that she left behind her?” “Exactly,” said Nick. “You mean----” “The garments she left in the home of Mrs. Lord, with whom she has been boarding.” “You have been there?” Deland’s brows knit closer and fell to a settled frown over his steadily dilating eyes. “How else could I have found the garments?” Nick demanded. “Yes, I have been there and----” “And that’s not the only place he’s been to, nor all he----” “One moment, Henley,” Deland coldly interrupted. “I will hear you presently. Permit Mr. Carter to have his say. What more, Carter; what more?” “Oh, there is a good deal more, Deland, if I chose to tell you all of my discoveries and deductions,” Nick now said, more sternly. “Ah, indeed?” “So much, Deland, that it would reveal in every detail the knavish game you have been playing,” Nick went on forcibly. “But you have overplayed yourself, over-estimated the value of your cards.” “My cards?”