“To the girl perhaps, but never to the rat,” said Lamont. “Margie knows a good deal, and would be a dangerous person for us to fight if she had the cleverness of some women. But she’s caged for some time, and Nora will see that she remains silent. But the papers? We must have something of the kind. If Mother Flintstone did not leave such, we must make them.” “Now, that’s it.” “The governor won’t knuckle down till he sees them, and then we’ll get all we want.” For half a second Richmond smoked in silence, and then he threw away his cigar. “We must make the papers!” he cried. “Your father, Perry Lamont, must give you free use of his purse strings. When I called on him and threatened to send you to the gallows unless he handed over ten thousand dollars he laughed in my face, and I came away with no cash at all. But I picked a check book from the desk, as you know, with one good check filled out. That’s helped us some.” “Yes; but it’s a mere drop in the bucket. The governor must be confronted with certain papers proving that Mother Flintstone was his sister and my aunt. That will open the cash box, I guess!” And young Lamont laughed. “The infernal villains!” ejaculated Carter, as these details of infamy fell upon his ears; “if that isn’t a gallows pair then I never saw one in all my life. Claude Lamont can’t get his hands on the Lamont cash box, and that’s what worries him. One of those men killed Mother Flintstone; but which one?” In another moment Claude and Richmond arose and left the room, and Bristol Clara said: “That ends the exhibition for the present,” and the detective answered that he was satisfied. CHAPTER XXV. A TERRIBLE COMPACT. Perry Lamont, the millionaire, stood underneath the brilliant chandelier in his luxurious library, apparently waiting for some one. He looked anxiously toward the door, and when it opened his eyes glittered. The person who entered the room was his son. For half a second father and son stood face to face, and then the former waved the other to a chair. Claude, looking a little worse for the night out, complied, and waited for his father to speak. “Who is this man Richmond?” asked Lamont, senior. The young man started. “He is your friend, I believe?” “He is, and he is a nice gentleman,” said Claude. “I judge so,” and a smile came to the father’s lips. “What has happened? You speak sarcastically this morning.” “Do I? Well, I want you to give up this ‘nice gentleman.’” Claude looked away, but in a moment his gaze came back to his father’s face. “This man is a rascal,” spoke up the millionaire. “That’s a pretty bold charge against a friend of mine.” “Bold or not, it’s true.” “Who is the accuser?” “Never mind that.” “I demand to know. Mr. Richmond has a right to face his accuser, and he will do so.” “But you haven’t denied the charge of your friend.” “I do it now.” “Then he is a nice gentleman still, is he?” “He is, sir.” Claude flushed.