“You remember that I am on the trail of the person who killed Mother Flintstone?” “I remember.” “You remember, too, begging the young lady’s pardon, that the old lady was your near kin.” These words were like a spark to a magazine, and the next moment Opal broke forth: “It’s the same old blackmailing scheme, father. You shall not listen to it.” “Calm yourself, Miss Lamont----” “I am calm enough now. You shall not introduce such subjects in this house. We do not recognize the old hag who was killed, perhaps righteously, in the place called Hell’s Kitchen. You must talk about another matter if you want to remain here.” Perry Lamont looked crushed and almost helpless in his chair. He glanced at his daughter, and then toward the door leading into the hall. “Where’s Claude?” he asked. “He is not in just now,” answered Opal. “No, sir,” put in the detective. “Your son just now is not in; but I could enlighten you as to his whereabouts.” “You’ve been playing spy, have you?” “I’ve been following the trail of one who has been your brother’s friend, miss.” Opal Lamont colored and for half a second remained silent. “It is blackmail all the same,” she resumed at last. “In the first place, whatever that old woman was to us we don’t intend to be bled.” “I believe you once offered me ten thousand dollars not to pursue this trail, miss.” “I did it for his sake,” and she nodded toward her father. “I don’t want his nerves shattered.” The detective glanced at Perry Lamont and pitied the abject old figure in the chair. “They looked alike,” was all he said, with a glance at Miss Opal. The daughter curled her lip and looked away. “Never mind,” she said. “My day will come, Mr. Detective.” Carter turned once more to the millionaire and said: “I’ll state my business. I am here to ask you about that contract.” Lamont started. “What contract?” he asked. “The one you made with your son.” There was a cry and a sudden start, and the millionaire nearly fell from his chair. “I made no contract!” he cried. “None whatever?” “None!” “You did not promise him a large sum if he would put a certain person out of the way?” “I did not.” “That’s blackmail, pure and simple,” flashed Opal Lamont. “You cannot succeed.” She arose and crossed the room. Perry Lamont seemed to grovel in his chair. “You deny the contract, do you?” queried the detective. “I do.” “He never lies!” exclaimed the girl. “And never forgets, eh?” “Never!” “Then his mind is greatly at fault this minute. Let me ask another question.” “Not another one! He has been questioned enough. Don’t you see you have excited him?” “Not so much but that he can answer intelligently. Perry Lamont, your sister did not die heirless.” “My God!” “She left some of her blood behind. She did not pass out of the world at the hand of the assassin without leaving behind some one who has a right to her name!”