“Even that event will not take me from my trail.” “You have no heart.” “Neither had the man who killed that old woman.” “Who did it? Tell me that!” “I am not quite prepared to answer, but in time I will be. I am here to tell you that the death of your ostracized sister shall be avenged, no matter whose neck the rope stretches, figuratively speaking.” “You don’t mean to insinuate that I had a hand in the crime?” “I make no charges. I merely called to ask if she was not your sister?” “I’ve answered that question.” “And you let her go to the potter’s field?” “I did, and I would do it again under the circumstances.” “Don’t talk to me about my having no heart, Mr. Lamont.” “I couldn’t think of acknowledging her and having the body in my house.” “That’s all.” Nick arose and was watched by the man with a look like that of a tiger. Perry Lamont seemed to bite his lips through and his eyes emitted sparks of rage. As the detective stepped toward the door it opened and a tall and distinguished-looking young lady entered the room. “My daughter,” said the millionaire, with a wave of his hand toward the young lady, but she did not seem to hear the words. Already she had turned upon Carter and her hands were clenched till the nails seemed to cut the fair flesh to the palms. “You want to disgrace us all!” she cried, as she appeared to increase an inch in stature. “You are one of those blackmailers with whom honest and wealthy people must be bothered. You want to make us trouble. But you shall not! Father shall not pay you one dollar to keep the false secret you think you have discovered. Attempt to carry out your plans and your life will not be worth the snuffing of a candle.” Carter was astounded at these words, and he could not take his eyes from the flushed face of the girl who was really beautiful and vixenish. “Be calm, miss,” said he. “I don’t intend to disgrace your family name. The truth never hurt anybody. I am a detective on the trail, and if that trail leads to your house, why, you should not find fault, for the dogs of justice seldom miss the scent.” “But you just said the old creature murdered in her hovel a few nights ago was my father’s sister.” “Ask him.” Carter waved his hand toward the motionless man in the chair. “Father has not been himself for some time, and to-night is not accountable for the admissions he may have made.” Carter looked again at Perry Lamont, whose gaze had wandered to his daughter, and his hands, clasped before, had fallen apart. At that moment he did look like a man half demented, but the detective soon returned to the tall girl. “You shan’t ruin us,” she cried. “You shall not unite our name with that of Mother Flintstone, whose life, I am told, was anything but honest. It will be worth your life to do this.”