“And I am also a man of my word. You cannot obtain money from me by threats.”
“But we offer you a service in return—to bring Sylvia to you.”
“Where is her father?” I demanded.
“You’d better ask her,” replied Forbes, with a grin. “Sign this, and see her. She is anxious—very anxious to meet you.”
“How do you know that?”
“We know more than you think, Mr. Biddulph,” was the sharper’s reply.
His exterior was certainly that of a gentleman, in his well-cut dinner jacket and a fine diamond stud in his shirt.
I could only think that the collapsible chair in which I sat was worked by a lever from outside the room. There was a spy-hole somewhere, at which they could watch the actions of their victims, and take them unawares as I had been taken.
“And now,” asked Reckitt, “have you fully reflected upon the serious consequences of your refusal to sign this cheque?”
“I have,” was my unwavering reply. “Do as you will, I refuse to be blackmailed.”