“Enid, dear, you shouldn’t have come,” she heard Mr. Burnett say to his daughter. And then to the kidnappers, “Let her go free and I’ll give you anything you ask.”
“So you’re ready to come to terms now, are you?” was the cool retort. “It’s too late. We gave you your chance and you refused to turn over the Zudi Drum.”
“I told you I would be willing to give up the drum, providing you could establish ownership. All this threatening and kidnapping and violence goes against my grain.”
“You and your daughter shall both pay for taking the drum away from India,” came the solemn announcement.
“Enid had nothing to do with it,” Mr. Burnett returned earnestly. “How was I to know the drum had been stolen? I purchased it from a reputable antique dealer and paid a good price for it. Will you let my daughter go?”
The spokesman for the three smiled. At a signal from him, the other two fell upon Enid and before she could make a move, securely bound her hands and feet. Mr. Burnett struggled to free himself and only succeeded in drawing his bonds tighter until they cut deeply into his flesh. He groaned and fell back on the couch.
“Now we’ll have a look at the Zudi Drum,” the spokesman declared.
Madge held her breath as he picked up the wrapped package. What would he do to Enid and her father when the deception was discovered?
The Indian cut the strings and the paper fell away. A cry of rage escaped him.
“Tricked!” he exclaimed, his face convulsed with anger and hatred. “Ah, you shall pay for this!”