“Who are you?” he next asked. “Come, you know me, George,” said the detective. “I’m not disguised.” “Well, here I am.” The half-dressed man stepped forward, but the moment Carter advanced a step he picked up a chair and with the fury of a maniac threw it above his head. The old landlord behind the detective uttered a terrified cry and retreated, and as he held the only light there was, the room was wrapped in darkness. Carter struck a match, and at the same time thrust forward his revolver. But the match revealed nothing. George Richmond was gone! For half a minute Carter stood like a person in a dream, but a sudden cry from the old man aroused him. “He’s crept under the bed, sir,” was the cry. With a light laugh Carter sprang forward and caught hold of the foot he found. The next moment a bullet whizzed past his head and then he dragged the rascal forth. Lying on the floor, handcuffed, George Richmond looked up into Carter’s face and grinned. “For conspiracy, eh?” he said. “That’s news to me.” “It’s better for that than murder,” was the answer, and then Carter took his prisoner away. “Now for the other birds,” said the detective, as he turned from the station house. He proceeded uptown and, late as it was, rang the bell of the Lamont mansion. For some time no one answered him, and then he heard footsteps inside. “It’s Opal herself,” thought Carter, as he waited for the door to open. Yes, it was the handsome daughter of the dead millionaire, and she maintained her composure as she looked into the detective’s face. “It’s a late call, miss,” said Carter, as he stepped inside. “But it is a case of necessity. I’ve found your father.” “Indeed?” How terribly cool this girl was. “Yes; he’s been found and will be home shortly.” “That’s clever of you. I did not know you were looking for him. He went off a little unexpectedly, you see----” “I understand. He is dead----” “Father dead?” It was a real start now, but in a moment Opal regained her composure. “Miss Lamont, did you ever know a man named Lewis Newell?” She fell back and seemed to gasp for breath. “Lewis Newell?” she echoed, trying to become calm again. “I don’t know that I ever knew such a man.” “You did not decoy him to a dungeon? You did not coolly let him perish there? I’ve read his last words on the wall, miss. I know that that is not your only crime!” “It is false!” She looked defiant and her eyes flashed. “There’s another, miss,” continued Carter. “You dare not say that again.” “I say it again. There’s another crime. It is the greatest one of all.” “What is it, pray?” “The murder of Mother Flintstone!” CHAPTER XXXVIII. JUSTICE’S ROUND-UP. Opal Lamont seemed to grow into a statue before the detective. She did not move a muscle, but her face grew white, and the detective thought she would sink to the floor. But suddenly she started up and calmly invited Carter into the parlor.