"You put some faith in that warning, Mr. Fell?" The bandit laughed. "Do you think that you will know me again?"
"I hardly believe so, sir," answered Fell in his apologetic fashion. "Your disguise is really excellent."
"Thank you." The bandit's voice held a thin mockery. "Coming from you, sir, that compliment is most welcome."
"What the devil does the fellow mean?" exploded Judge Forester.
"Then you are not aware that Mr. Fell is a man of large affairs?" The bandit's white teeth flashed in a smile. "He is a modest man, this attorney! And a dangerous man also, I assure you. But come, Mr. Fell, I'll not betray you."
Jachin Fell obviously did not appreciate the pleasantry. His shy and wondering features assumed a set and hardened look.
"Whoever you are," he responded, a subtle click of anger in his tone, "you shall be punished for this!"
"For what, Mr. Fell? For knowing too much of your private affairs?" The bandit laughed. "Fear not—I am only an amateur at this game, fortunately! So do your worst, and my blessing upon you! Now, gentlemen, kindly withdraw a few paces and join Uncle Neb yonder against the wall. All but you, Maillard; I'm not through with you yet."
The automatic pistol gestured; under its menace everyone obeyed the command, for the calm assurance of the bandit made it seem extremely likely that he would use the weapon without compunction. The men withdrew toward the far end of the room, where a word from the aviator halted them. Maillard remained standing where he was, his heavy features now mottled with impotent anger.
The Masquer advanced to the table and gathered the heap of money and scarfpins into the leathern pocket of his coat. During the process his gaze did not waver from the group of men, nor did the threat of his weapon lift from the banker before him.