Suddenly I heard a movement in the shadow, the opening and closing of a door, and a moment later I saw silhouetted before me the figure of old Humphreys.
“Well?” he asked in a hard, sarcastic voice, “and how are you getting on now—eh?”
“I—I don’t know,” I replied so faintly that I could scarcely hear my own voice. “Where am I?”
“You are in my hands at last, Rex Yelverton,” he snarled. “You chose to interfere in matters that did not concern you. You have had plenty of warning. But as you refused to heed them I have decided to act.”
“What do you mean?” I cried in dismay. “What harm have I done you?”
The old man merely chuckled exultantly at the way I had fallen into the trap he had so cunningly prepared—with Feng’s aid, no doubt, I thought. I had all along believed the old cosmopolitan financier to be my friend. I sat aghast at the astounding discovery that he was my enemy. For a few seconds I remained speechless.
“Now,” he said in a deep vindictive voice, “there is but little time left. Look over yonder.”
He turned the switch and the room was instantly flooded with light, and as I gazed, dazzled by the sudden brightness, I saw seated in a chair within a few feet of me, a woman’s figure.
It was Thelma!
I shrieked her name, but only a faint sound escaped my lips, for my throat was dry and sore, and I could scarcely raise my voice above a hoarse whisper.