The page handed Jack a letter.
“It’s from Hetherington,” Jack told Frank, after a hasty perusal. “Says he is unable to meet us here, but for us to come to his place in the taxi he has sent for us.”
“All right,” replied Frank. “But I must go upstairs a moment first,” and he started hurriedly for the elevator.
“I’ll wait in the taxi,” called Jack, and he followed the chauffeur to the street, where the taxi stood in the shadow of the hotel.
The chauffeur opened the door and the lad climbed in. As he did so, two strong hands reached out from the darkness of the cab and took him by the throat, while a third hand was clapped over his mouth to prevent his making an outcry. At the same moment the door was slammed shut, and the taxi rolled swiftly away.
Jack struggled desperately, but in vain. The sudden attack had been well timed and, struggle as he would, Jack could not shake off the hold on his throat, but soon sank back unconscious.
Then the hand upon his throat relaxed and a voice exclaimed in German:
“He’s as strong as an ox. It’s a good thing both of them didn’t come.”
“Well, we have got him, all right,” came a second voice, “and this is the one the chief wants, I am sure.”
When Jack regained consciousness the taxi was still rushing swiftly along, and the lad found that his hands were securely bound behind his back.