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“Best, sir? Oh, how can that be? If Mr. Flood is as bad as—as——”

“As your worthy father really implied, he would be a very bad man, indeed,” laughed Nick quietly. “But your good father is both right and wrong, Miss Royal. There are far worse men than Moses Flood, my dear girl; and if he were to throw up his miserable vocation, which he intimated he intended doing for your sake, he would be a man whose hand I would grasp as a friend and brother.”

“Oh, Detective Carter, do you say so?”

“And who knows, Miss Royal, but that we yet may lead him to do so, and your father into regarding the matter in a rather different light.”

“Oh, if we only could!”

“But do not enthuse too quickly, my dear,” laughed Nick. “The job is yet to be done, as we detectives say, and the task must be yours and mine alone. No third party must be admitted to our secret, mind you.”

“Trust me, I will do whatever you advise,” declared Dora, now quite aglow with reawakened hopes. “I am sure you mean to be my friend, Detective Carter, and I will trust you blindly.”