Gertrude sank down on a chair. Her mind was concerned entirely over the serious sickness which had suddenly overtaken good Mrs. Kennedy, and consequently she thought little of herself. But when she heard some shutters to the window of the sitting room slam from the outside she leaped to her feet.
"What can that mean?" she cried, and ran to the window. Trying the shutters, she found them fastened from the outside. At once she crossed over to the door, to find it locked.
"He has made me a prisoner!" she moaned. Then she knocked loudly on the door, but nobody came to answer her summons.
In the meantime Sam Pepper, having locked the door and fastened the window shutters, called Con Worden to him.
"Worden, do you want to earn a quarter?" he asked.
"Well, I should smile," answered the hanger-on eagerly.
"You saw that gentleman who was here a while ago—him with the silk hat and gold-headed cane."
"Of course I did."
"Go over to the Broxton Club, near Union Square, and see if he is there. Call for Mr. Bulson. If you find him, tell him to come at once."