“Not once, however, did I pass beyond those dismal black curtains, or get so much as a glimpse at anything outside of that somber room,” Clayton added, with some feeling. “Not once was I without the gloomy companionship of a masked man in one of the chairs. I saw only three of them, as I have said, but I was under frequent scrutiny of another, I am sure, whose evil eyes were watching me through some part of the somber draperies.”
“Did you hear him, that you feel so sure of it?” Nick questioned.
“No.” Clayton quickly shook his head. “I did not hear him, Nick, or see him, not once, but I frequently felt that some one was stealthily watching me.”
“And that continued for three days?”
“Yes. In the evening of the third day, Nick, my clothing was returned to me and I was told to dress. I then was blindfolded and guided from the house. Then fol[Pg 7]lowed another ride in the touring car, under the same conditions as before, and I was taken to a lonely road in an outskirt of Fordham.”
“And then?”
“I then was directed to follow the road for a quarter mile, when I would reach a trolley line into town,” Clayton said, in conclusion. “The four men then rode rapidly away, and one hour later I arrived at the Westgate, much to the relief of Miss Langham and my chauffeur, who were on the verge of reporting my abduction to the police. That’s the whole story, Nick. Now, as Chick asked, what do you make of it?”
Nick laid aside his napkin. The dinner had been progressing during Clayton’s recital, and coffee and cigars were in order.
“Well, I hardly know what to say,” Nick replied. “Have you notified the police, or taken any steps to identify your abductors?”
“I have not,” said Clayton. “They told me that any efforts along that line would be futile. I noticed the number on their touring car, but upon looking it up I found no such number. They had a doctored number plate.”