His companion and confidant of the moment, Frederick Prentice, was past middle age. The possessor of large, inherited wealth, he was totally unlike the younger and more energetic man. He had never entered business, and the only times he ever condescended to visit a business office were occasioned by infrequent plunges into speculation through a broker friend, or the necessity of calling on his lawyer.
In his easy-going, well-financed existence he had had few problems or worries. To Prentice the easiest way out was the logical course.
Forrester knew this as well as any man, and was therefore little inclined to heed the well-meant advice which Prentice was giving him—to yield without a murmur to the outrageous and exorbitant demand that had been made upon him.
The young man opened the clenched hand in which he had crushed the warning message when making his vehement declaration. He smoothed out the offending paper on his knee and glared at it—reading again the words that enraged him more each time he studied them. The message was crudely hand-printed on a square of ordinary wrapping paper such as can be found in any store. At the top was the rough drawing of a human skull. Forrester read the words aloud.
In Jasper lane two hundred feet west of Sheridan Road
you will see a great oak tree on the left side. Before midnight
Saturday place$10,000 in the opening you will find in this tree.
Failure to comply means death. Be warned!
Friends of the Poor
"On the other side," declared Forrester, "we lived and tramped and fought with spies and informers at our elbows. Enemy agents, ready to turn a dastardly trick at any moment, were on every hand. Though conditions were just ripe for them, sooner or later we spotted them—practically every one. Do you mean to tell me that here, in a peaceful, law-abiding city, with trained police and intelligent detectives, we can't run down a blackmailing crew like this one?"
"That is exactly what has happened," said Prentice.
"And you want me to believe that every one of the victims has given up without a fight; that no real effort has been made to apprehend these desperadoes?"
"My, no!" exclaimed Prentice. "Several of the men threatened went to the police. The police put their best men on the case for weeks, but so far as I know, they never discovered a worth while clue."
"What happened to those men who resisted?" inquired Forrester.