The woman arose and walked to the window. To the detective she seemed to be getting nervous. “Do you know,” said Nick presently, “that I think you are putting up a bluff, and that you are talking against time? Is Mantelle late?” “He’ll be here,” was the reply. “It would be something of a consolation to me,” said Nick, “to know just how you managed to scatter the news of my capture. The others were gone when we left the hotel, before you suspected me, and you have talked with no one since we started.” The woman laughed heartily. “What do you suppose I got you into that clothing store for, and into the dressing room? I am agreeably disappointed in you. I thought you much keener.” “Then you discovered my identity at once, in the hotel, and summoned your friends while I was changing my clothes? That’s clever! What a capital detective you would have made. I should not have left you alone for an instant. You might have escaped. But, then, we all make mistakes.” Nick waited anxiously, half expecting the woman to mention the presence of Patsy while she sat at the front of the store. Patsy had certainly been there, but had the woman noted his presence? It was a consolation to the detective to know that the assistant was not far off. “I was afraid you would escape,” laughed the woman. “You took the hook easily, Mr. Carter.” “You are a clever woman,” replied Nick. “I give you the credit of getting the best of me up to date. What next, if I may ask?” “If you could look out of the window,” said the woman, facing Houston Street, “you would see three men lounging in front of a saloon. They are waiting for signals from this room. Do you begin to realize what a power the Great Diamond Syndicate is? When the waving of a red handkerchief announces that you are dead they will go away. But they won’t expect that signal until they see Mantelle enter the house.” The detective had no doubt that Patsy was also watching the windows of that house. He would have given much to have communicated with him for an instant. He arose as if to walk to the window. The young man who held the revolver moved forward into the front room. “Get back to your chair,” he said, “or we won’t wait for Mantelle. I prefer to do the job right now, anyway. Get back!” The fellow’s tone nettled the detective. Almost before he realized what he was doing, he burst his bonds and sprang at the man. There was a sharp report and a puff of smoke. Then the woman, who had turned from the window in alarm, saw the young man lying unconscious on the floor, and saw, also, that the detective was no longer bound. Nick gazed at the woman steadily for a second. “I don’t know what to do with you,” he said. “It is not the office of a gentleman to bind and gag a woman, yet something must be done.” The woman gazed anxiously in the direction of the door. “Don’t expect Mantelle,” said Nick. “He is in the Tombs by this time.” Then a step sounded in the hall outside. “He is coming!” cried the woman.