“You know a lot that you aren’t telling. You’re going to tell it, sooner or later. So why not be friends? It may work out to your advantage.”
He struck a match while he spoke, and lighted the tip of Harry’s cigar.
The first puff convinced Harry that the stranger was a good judge of fine perfectos, whatever his shortcomings might be. The two men smoked in silence for a considerable time.
“How about it?” asked the man. “Want to talk a bit? This is pretty near your last chance.”
Harry shook his head.
“All right,” said the stranger, in an indifferent tone. “I’m going to move you out of here.”
“Go ahead,” said Harry. “It would be more interesting than staying here.”
“Think so?” was the reply. “Better guess again.”
The dark man arose, and produced a few coils of rope from a corner of the room.
“I’ve got everything here,” he said. “I’m going to truss you up, young fellow. I may need those bracelets you’re wearing. They come in handy when I have to work quick. So I’m going to put rope on you.”