"See that you don't forget it," replied Parkins, already planning his way to freedom. "And also remember this—that when she was seized by these men, and we were arrested like kidnappers, I was taking her to one of the swellest country clubs in the land. We were to be married there, and you were to be the witness—see?"
Parkins' eyes flashed, and his lips curled into a cruel smile as he thought of the revenge he would take upon Villard and the girl, if called to the witness stand. How the reporters would enjoy it! And how Villard's face would burn with shame as lawyers for the defense drove home his crazy notions about spiritual communications!
The thought almost made him happy.
At Riverhead telephoning was in order. The car containing the prisoners was, by Updyke's order, to be driven through to New York and the culprits brought to his office. The girl, Winifred, would await the arrival of Villard's car at Yaphank, Carver gladly agreeing to convey her that far, changing to his runabout at Riverhead—thus adding to her comfort until she would meet up with her friends.
Sawyer was so overcome with joy at "the news from the front," as he called it, that he insisted on being taken along with Villard. So, with Santzi as a mascot, and Jacques at the wheel, they were soon on their way. But aside from the joy in each breast, there was a grim thought in each mind—and small charity for Parkins and the nurse he had used as a foil.
Then, too, the shock of Winifred's strange disappearance had so upset the nerves of Alexander Barbour that he now hovered near "The Great Crossing." But the ever kindly Mrs. Bond had his case in hand, and the doctor had been called, although he had not arrived when Villard's party left for Yaphank.
"If Winifred will agree, we will be married to-night," said Villard, in an undertone, to Sawyer.
The latter did not reply, although he remained in deep thought for almost a mile, as shown by the speedometer.
"No, my friend," said he, finally, and with an effort to tell the truth without offending—"her youthful dreams must not be wiped out in any such rough-shod manner. I know the big heartedness of your intentions, but Winifred is a girl and she must have the say. There are her old-time friends at Patchogue. Those she cares for should by all means be invited. She must have a fling of some pretensions or she will brood in silence at your lack of sympathy."
"Alas, you are right—as usual," sighed Villard. "However, my pessimism is newly born from the fruits of this evil day."