“It is no joke. I never joke on serious matters like this.” The eyes of the two men met. “This check is signed by your father, and yet you tell me that it is blood money.” “That’s precisely what it is. He’s hired me to kill you.” George Richmond broke into a laugh and leaned back in his chair. “You don’t look like it, boy,” he cried. “Well, if I’m to be killed, why don’t you do it now?” Claude reached forward and picked up the check. “I’m to have a cool two hundred thousand for the job,” said he. “Just think of it! You’re an important person.” “Hang me if I ain’t. Why does the old man want me out of the way?” “You hold the secret, and he believes you have the papers left by Mother Flintstone.” “You gave him that gaff, did you?” “Yes, in great shape.” “I hardly thought you’d do it. But since you have I suppose you’re to furnish proofs that I’ve been killed.” “Of course.” “You are not expected to furnish the corpse, I hope?” “No; not quite that. But he’s to have some sort of proofs, and then we’ll get the two hundred thousand.” For an hour these men kept their heads together and talked in low tones. They discussed first one plan and then another, and when they at last adjourned and stepped out upon the street they seemed satisfied about something. Not far from the place of meeting a hand was laid upon Claude Lamont’s arm, and he looked into the face of a tall woman. “You?” he cried, for he was alone, having separated from Richmond a few moments previous. “Yes? Why not?” “I thought I left you in the nest with Margie.” “So you did, but there isn’t any nest now.” “No nest? What’s happened?” “The old place is in ashes.” Lamont uttered a startled cry, and looked at the woman, who did not speak. “You weren’t to hurt the girl, you know?” said he. “That’s true, but I couldn’t help it.” “But tell me. Come in here. No one will listen to us. Now, what has taken place?” Nora took a long breath and began. “The girl got almost unruly. I got her up to bed, but she faced me and threatened.” “Well, you shouldn’t have paid any attention to her words.” “I couldn’t help it. She mentioned a name that drove every vestige of color from my face.” “An old enemy’s name, eh?” “Yes; she spoke of a detective whom I fear with all my soul. She spoke of Carter.” “And made you chicken-hearted, eh? Pshaw, woman!” “I couldn’t help it, I say. It filled me with fear, and I broke away.” “Well?” “By and by the room became still, and I found that she was asleep at last.” “That’s good.” “In the room below I upset the lamp.” “The devil you did, woman! You must have been badly frightened.” “I was. In an instant it seemed the fire was everywhere. I saw it mount the stairs and dart toward the girl’s room. Fear almost paralyzed me. I tried to get upstairs, but failed. The fire was everywhere. It filled the whole house, it seemed. I could no more stop its progress than I could stop the river yonder. I fled for my life.”