I hesitated, much puzzled by the strangeness of the attitude of the pair. Their self-confidence was amazing.
“Sign it,” he urged. “Sign it in your own interests—and in hers.”
“Why in hers?”
“You will see, after you have appended your signature.”
“When I have seen her I will sign,” I replied at last; “but not before. You seem to have regarded me as a pigeon to pluck. But you’ll find out I’m a hawk before you’ve done with me.”
“I think not,” smiled the cool-mannered Reckitt. “Even if you are a hawk, you’re caged. You must admit that!”
“I shall shout murder, and alarm the police,” I threatened.
“Shout away, my dear fellow,” replied my captor. “No sound can be heard outside this room. Shriek! We shall like to hear you. You won’t have opportunity to do so very much longer.”
“Why?”
“Because refusal will bring upon you a fate more terrible than you have ever imagined,” was the fellow’s hard reply. “We are men of our word, remember! It is not wise to trifle with us.”