“I made a mistake in grabbing you,” admitted the stranger. “I thought of that as soon as I had you. But I had to go through with it. They’ve probably missed you by now, and it may give me a lot of trouble. So unless you talk — to-night — I’m going to put you in a worse place than this.”
“Tell me who you are. Maybe I’ll talk then.”
“You ought to know who I am. Use your imagination. It won’t take much.”
* * *
Harry did not reply. He felt that if he made a single statement regarding his identity, he would get himself in for a lot of trouble. His situation was bad enough. Silence had not made it worse.
He knew that the men who were plotting against Blair Windsor were dangerous. This fellow appeared to be the worst of the crowd.
He wondered what had been said about his absence. He had imagined that it might cause considerable comment at Windsor’s place. Then he realized that it could be easily explained by either Quinn or Crull — whichever was the traitor in the party.
A statement from either of the men would indicate that Harry had gone away for a few days. Perhaps his car had been removed. He hoped that the wireless equipment had not been discovered.
The man with the black mustache drew two cigars from his pocket and gave one to Harry.
“Listen young fellow,” he said, in a more kindly voice. “I’m not out to treat you rough. I figured It was my job to grab you, and I did.