"Well?" he demanded.
"Well?" repeated Darrow, sinking gracefully to one corner of the table.
"You're an old fool, McCarthy. What good did you think it would do you to
arrest me?"
"I intended to sweat you," confessed the boss frankly, "but I was too
busy."
"Sweat me, eh?" demanded Darrow, with some amusement. "So you decided not
to, did you--hence the lack of enthusiasm on the part of the police in
effecting my recapture. You didn't imagine I caused all this, did you?"
"I don't know," growled McCarthy. "But if you, or the other fellow, or
whoever or whatever it is, think you can bluff me out, you or he or it's
left! That's all!"
"So you've been getting more wireless, have you?" surmised Darrow.
McCarthy cast a surly glance toward Jack, whom previously he had ignored.
"Yes," he admitted grudgingly.
Darrow held out his hand. After a moment's hesitation McCarthy thrust
forward a single yellow paper, and Darrow read aloud in spite of the boss'
warning gesture:
"McCarthy: The sign has been sent you and sent your people. You are
stubborn, but it shall not avail you. You must go; and within
twenty-four hours. It will not avail you unless you go. The _Celtic_
leaves to-morrow at noon. You must go on that ship. I shall know
whether or not you obey me. Once more I shall warn you; one more
sign shall I send. Then I shall strike!"
"He's getting garrulous," remarked Darrow reflectively; "but he's relieved
my mind.
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