The detective looked into the long face, and his gaze alighted upon a little scar over the left eye. “This is Nora--Margie’s jaileress, but she’s Mag Maginnis, the old offender. She’s not to blame entirely for this. The hand of her master drove her to suicide, and he shall pay for it!” Carter seemed to speak the last words through clenched teeth, and his voice told that he meant every word he said. The policeman in the meantime called the patrol, and Nick had extracted from the woman’s bosom a little flat package like a memorandum, which he hastily transferred to his own pocket. “That’s the end of one poor, storm-tossed soul,” muttered the detective as he walked away. “I found Mag sooner than I expected, but we’ve not heard the last of her.” Half a block from the river front the detective nearly ran against a man who came out of a house with a reputation none of the best and walked off. The walk and the well-known shoulders as revealed by the man caused a light of recognition to leap up into Carter’s eyes, and his gaze followed the fellow some distance. “What brought you to the scene of Nora’s death, Claude Lamont?” mentally queried the man of clews. “Did you have to hound the poor creature to the last terrible act of her life?” CHAPTER XXVIII. A FAIR FOE. The detective followed the young man until he lost him beyond the doors of a well-known café, and then he turned away. Nora, alias Mag Maginnis, had ended her life in the cold waters of the river, and the detective believed that Claude Lamont was morally responsible. “Now for another visit to the lion’s den,” said Carter, as he made his way to another part of the city and rang the bell attached to the millionaire’s mansion. It was not the hour for a social call, but he found the money king at home. He had not forgotten his former visit, when he was faced by the daughter and warned not to carry his hunt too far. Carter still saw the fine figure of the girl before him and her flashing eyes, but she had not deterred him. He was shown at once to the library, and Perry Lamont turned his chair so as to face the detective. “What is it, sir?” he asked. Before Carter could reply the door opened and the daughter, Opal, came in. Opal Lamont was handsome, with a fine figure and a bright face; but her eyes seemed full of fire, and unnatural fire at that. Spying the detective, she advanced haughtily and faced him. “Are you going to hold an interview with this man?” she asked her father. “I presume he is here to see me.” “I’ll remain,” answered Opal, and the next moment she dropped into a chair and turned her face to the detective. Her manner was positive, if not insulting, and the detective swallowed it mutely. Perry Lamont seemed rejoiced to have his daughter beside him. It made him look triumphantly at Carter, and for a moment a smile of victory appeared at his mouth. “Now, sir, we’ll proceed,” he said. “Your mission here you can make known and we will listen.”