Then presently he rose impatiently, and, crossing the room, exclaimed—
“How long are we to be humbugged like this? I’ve got to get out to Croydon—and it’s late. Come on, Forbes. Let’s go over and dig Marlowe out, eh?”
So the pair left the room, promising to return with Jack in a few minutes, and closed the door after them.
When they had gone, I sat for a moment reflecting. I did not like the look of either of them. Their faces were distinctly sinister and their manner overbearing. I felt that the sooner I left that silent house the better.
So, crossing to the table, I drew out my cheque-book, and hastily wrote an open cheque, payable to “Charles Reckitt,” for one thousand one hundred and ten pounds. I did so in order that I should have it in readiness on Jack’s return—in order that we might get away quickly.
Whatever possessed my friend to mix with such people as those I could not imagine.
A few moments later, I had already put the cheque back into my breast-pocket, and was re-seated in the arm-chair, when of a sudden, and apparently of its own accord, the chair gave way, the two arms closing over my knees in such a manner that I was tightly held there.
It happened in a flash. So quickly did it collapse that, for a moment, I was startled, for the chair having tipped back, I had lost my balance, my head being lower than my legs.
And at that instant, struggling in such an undignified position and unable to extricate myself, the chair having closed upon me, the door suddenly opened, and the man Reckitt, with his companion Forbes, re-entered the room.