Her face was as white as a sheet, and her lips were welded like pieces of steel. The hat had been discarded, and her long hair fell in uncombed masses over her shoulder. The girl looked like an avenging spirit, and the detective thought he had never seen a face just like hers. The whole thing appeared more visionary than real; it seemed some hideous dream in which he was to be the victim, but that it was terrible reality the detective soon discovered. The lips sprang apart suddenly, and Nick heard the voice of the creature on the stairs. “I hardly expected to trap you so easily,” she said, in sharp, triumphant tones. “You fell into the snare like a tenderfoot. Did you think I was about to reveal something to you? Your time has come! I hold death in my hand, and I haven’t practiced at the pistol galleries for nothing.” Carter saw the revolver which Opal Lamont thrust forward; he tried to spring to the door, but some unseen agency seemed to root him to the carpet. Then came a flash, leaping tigerlike through the transom, as it seemed--then darkness. CHAPTER XXIX. THE BACK TRAIL. All this time the carriage which had carried Opal and Carter to the house had waited for the girl just around the nearest corner. When Opal emerged from the place no excitement was noticed about her. She walked as gayly as if she had not sent a man to his doom, and when she stepped into the carriage there was a smile on her lips. She knew what she had done, and the secret was hers. The vehicle went straight to the Lamont mansion, and the girl dismissed it at the door. She entered the house and passed directly to her room on one of the upper floors, where she changed her gown; then she descended to the library, where she had left her father. She found him in the same position at the desk as if he had not stirred since her departure. He met her eye the moment she entered the room, and she came forward, saying nothing. “I’m glad to see you back, Opal. Did you get rid of that man?” “Yes.” “You did not let him blackmail you?” “I did not.” “You did not----” Perry Lamont stopped as if he was on dangerous ground, but Opal could not avoid his gaze. Her eyes seemed to betray her. “You surely did not----” began the millionaire again, but stopped as before. “Never mind where he is,” put in Opal. “I’m quite sure Nick Carter will not give us any more trouble.” “That’s good. I’m glad to hear you say that, and your manner convinces me that it is so. I trust he didn’t give you any trouble, child?” “None in the least. There, don’t bother about that man. He’s out of the way; won’t trouble you any more.” Opal arose and swept from the room, the eyes of the nabob following her with mute questioning. He heard her on the floor above, and closed his eyes as he leaned back in the chair. Did he suspect the truth? Did the rich man dream that his child had handled a revolver within the last hour, and that she had aimed at a man’s breast?