"Mr. Stapleton," he said, "I have your son in my possession. He is quite safe. I gave you an opportunity to have him returned to you last night; but you did not avail yourself of it."
"I did my best," exclaimed the astounded banker, mastering his desire to take the fellow by the throat.
"That may be; yet my plans were interfered with. You did not carry out my instructions."
"I did—to the letter."
The man frowned. "It is useless to discuss the matter now," he growled. "I come to give you one more chance. It will be the last—"
"You damned scoundrel!"
The man with the black beard held up his hand. "It will avail nothing, Monsieur," he said, calmly, "to excite yourself. If you want back your boy, listen to what I have to say."
"Very well. Go ahead."
"First, I want no interference by the police, or by the man Duvall, who is acting for you."
Mr. Stapleton drew back in astonishment. "How do you know that Mr. Duvall is acting for me?" he said.