"It was smart of you, Jackson," he said, addressing the bowed figure before him: "I give you credit for the idea. To kidnap a man just as he was bringing off a big deal—well, you would have earned the money."
"But how did you get down here?" struck in the manager.
"He told me that he had discovered an old hiding-place—a 'priest's hole,' he called it—and I walked into the trap as the best man may do sometimes. As we got to the bottom of that stairway he slipped a sack over my head and had me fixed in thirty seconds. He fed me himself twice a day, standing by to see I didn't halloo. When I paid up he was to have twenty-four hours' start; then he would let you know where I was. I held out awhile, but I gave in to-night. The delay was getting too dangerous. Have you a cigarette, Harbord? Thank you. And who may you be?"
It was to the detective he spoke.
"My name is Peace, Inspector Addington Peace, from Scotland Yard."
"And I owe my rescue to you?"
The little man bowed.
"You will have no reason to regret it. And what did they think had become of me, Inspector?"
"It was the general opinion that you had taken to yourself wings, Mr. Ford."
. . . . . . . . . . . .