At the door of the chauffeur's room he paused. It was closed. He pushed it gently open, and in a moment was in the room. The place was quite dark; but by means of a pocket light Duvall soon found the closet, and a moment later was safely ensconced within. He left the door ajar, and to his satisfaction found that he could see through the north window without difficulty. Here he waited, until the chauffeur should arrive.
Mr. Stapleton, meanwhile, sat grimly in the library below, waiting for the coming of the kidnapper. Promptly at eight o'clock, his butler announced that the man had arrived.
"Show him in at once," exclaimed the banker, as he rose and began to walk up and down the room.
In a moment the man came into the library. His powerful figure, his black beard, his assured manner, rendered him an easily recognized figure.
"I have come, Monsieur, as I said I would," he remarked, calmly. "I trust you have the money in readiness."
Stapleton stepped over to the desk and picked up the package of banknotes. "Here it is," he growled. "I understand that you will, in return for this money, send me word at once as to where my son is to be found."
"Within half an hour, Monsieur, at the latest; provided, of course, I am not interfered with in my escape."
"There will be no interference, until I get back my boy. After that, I shall spend another hundred thousand dollars, if need be, to bring you to justice."
"That, Monsieur, is quite within the terms of our agreement. The moment you receive the address, you are free from any obligation to me. May I see the money?" He extended his hand.
Mr. Stapleton placed the banknotes in it. "Count them," he growled, "and assure yourself that you have received the amount you demand."