"Trust that to me," replied Kendale, jumping up and walking the floor to and fro excitedly.
It was midnight when Halloran left Kendale's apartments. During those long hours the two plotters had concocted a diabolical scheme, which they meant to carry out ere the morning light dawned.
All unconscious of the nefarious plot against his life, Lester Armstrong was up with the sun the next morning, and was down to the office at an early hour transacting the great amount of business that he found upon his hands, contingent upon being the head of the firm of which he had for so many years been but an humble cashier.
Despite the sudden wealth which had come to him, all that day he felt a strange depression of the heart, a strong impression of impending evil, which he could not shake off. Even those about him noticed what a gloomy look there was in his eyes.
He was the last one to leave the great building that night, and as he stepped out upon the sidewalk, he muttered to himself: "I wonder what is about to happen to me, my heart feels so heavy, so depressed."
CHAPTER XIII.
IN THE TOILS OF THE CONSPIRATORS.
Lester Armstrong had no sooner stepped to the pavement than he was accosted by a man who stepped suddenly up to him.
"Mr. Armstrong?" he said, interrogatively, touching his hat respectfully.