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"No; I hadn't time to get a paper," replied Waldemar, taking the copy extended to him and reading in large display: OFFER TO PHOTOGRAPHERS Must be Taken According to Plans and Specifications Designated by the Late Nick Karboe. Apply to A. JONES, Ad-Visor. Astor Court Temple, New York City. "No wonder they ran," said Waldemar with a grin, as he digested this document.
"I er ra ra-aather hoped er when do you expect them back?" "About four o'clock." "Thank you. Please tell them that er Mr. Nick Karboe called." "For heaven's sake, Average," rumbled Waldemar, as they regained the pavement, "why did you use the dead man's name? It gave me a shiver." "It'll give them a worse one," replied the Ad-Visor grimly. "I want to prepare their nerves for a subsequent shock.
"Nick Karboe; N. K.," murmured Average Jones, laying a hand on the abandoned field glass. "Who is this man Karboe, Mr. Bendig?" "Junior partner of Noble and Gale. He puts out their advertising." "Any connection whatever with Mr. Carroll Morrison?" "Why, yes. Before he went to pieces he used to be Mr. Morrison's confidential man, and lately he's been doing some lobbying for the association.
Do you understand just what position you are in at present?" Morrison rose. "Governor Arthur," he said with with stony dignity, "I bid you good evening." Waldemar set his bulky back against the door. The lips drew back from Morrison's strong teeth with the snarl of an animal in the fury and terror of approaching peril. "Do you know Nick Karboe?" Morrison whirled about to face Average Jones.
But he did not answer the question. He only stared. "Carroll Morrison," continued Average Jones in his quiet drawl, "the half-hour before he er committed suicide er Nick Karboe spent in the office of the er Universal with Mr. Waldemar and er myself. Catch him, Waldemar!" For Morrison had wilted.
Then the front door opened cautiously and a tall, evil-looking man slunk into the vestibule. A second man followed him. They glanced eagerly from left to right. Average Jones stepped out to the curb-stone. "Here's the message from Karboe," he called. "My God!" gasped the tall man. For an instant he made as if to turn back.
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