“That puzzles you, does it?” said Margate, still with a sinister smile. “Very much,” Patsy frankly admitted. “How did you accomplish it?” “Oh, you Carters are not the whole shooting match,” Margate coldly answered. “If Chick Carter’s bullet had struck me half an inch lower, nevertheless, it would have ended me,” he added, pointing to the scar on his head. “I guessed that much,” nodded Patsy. “But ‘a miss is as good as a mile,’” said Margate. “It knocked me out, and I pitched overboard. Luckily, however, the chill of the water instantly revived me.” “But you did not rise to the surface,” said Patsy. “Chick was dead sure of that.” “Not for some little time. It was not necessary.” “You can live under water, eh?” “I did at that time, Garvan, long enough to reach a point where none of you ferrets were looking for me.” “But how did you turn the trick?” Patsy persisted. “With a piece of rubber pipe about two feet long,” Margate coolly informed him. “I had picked it up on the launch, apprehending trouble, and slipped it into my pocket. When I found myself rising to the surface, knowing I was in bad and a gone goose if I was seen, I slipped one end of the tube into my mouth and thrust the other end above the surface, in order to breathe through the pipe. I then paddled downstream with the current, and without showing on the surface. That’s all there was to it, Garvan. A very simple trick, you see.” Patsy expressed his appreciation with a nod. “Much obliged,” he said tersely. “It was more than a simple trick, Mr. Margate. It was a very clever one. You lived up to your reputation, Margate, for fair.” Margate’s eyes took on a more sinister gleam. “I fooled you completely, didn’t I?” he exclaimed. “You certainly did,” Patsy admitted. “Nick Carter still thinks I am dead, doesn’t he?” Patsy hesitated, not inclined to further expose his own hand, and Margate quickly added, with a sharper ring in his sinister voice: “Oh, you need not reply. I already know it. If Carter had the slightest suspicion that I am alive, you would have been informed of it, and would have felt no surprise when you saw me. That’s as plain as twice two.” “Well, I guess you are right,” Patsy admitted, unable to deny it. “I know I am right.” “Let it go at that, then.” Patsy spoke with an indifference that Margate was quick to resent. He drew up in his chair. A look of intense hatred and bitter contempt appeared on his drawn, white face. “No, I’ll not let it go at that,” he retorted. “I’ll hand you the whole business, if only to show you how little we fear Nick Carter and his entire push. It will never go farther through your lips. I’ll make dead sure of that.” His frowning observers, mute observers of the scene, appeared surprised at these daring declarations, but none ventured to interfere.