ARWICK was nauseated for a few minutes, and then was himself again. Once more he went up the stairs, not caring now whether he pressed foot against every third step or not. He investigated the electric switch and found that Bertram Blaine had thrown off the current before descending, and then he ran down the stairs again and helped Togo carry the unconscious master of the house up to his bedchamber.
“It will not last long, sar,” Togo said. “I did not get the chance to grip his throat properly, sar.”
Warwick issued his orders quickly then. They tore a sheet into strips, propped the unconscious Bertram Blaine in a chair, and lashed him there. They put the chair against the wall, and then Warwick glanced at his watch and went across to send the shade of one of the windows flying up.
“What else, sar?” Togo asked.
“Nothing—except to wait,” Warwick said. “You are due for a shock, honorable Japanese. By the way, you'd better make a mask out of a part of that sheet and cover your face and head. The gentleman in the chair does not need to know you.”
Togo sprang to the bed and obeyed. Warwick was watching Bertram Blaine closely, who after a time gave signs of returning consciousness.
When finally the man in the chair threw up his head Warwick carried a glass of water across the room and offered it to him, holding it while he drank.
“You see, Mr. Blaine,” he said, “what you got for playing a trick on me. A good friend of mine happened to put in an appearance in the nick of time. I trust that you are finally recovered from your heart attack?”
Warwick laughed, and Blaine glared at him. He glared at Togo, too, who had made a rough mask out of a piece of the sheet.
“Well, what do you want of me?” he demanded.
“For the present, we want nothing, Warwick said. “You are to collect your wits and courage—especially the latter—and wait.”
Warwick whispered instructions to Togo, who slipped from the room and hurried down the stairs,
“If you want money” Blaine began.
“Thanks; but I do not want money,” Warwick said. “If that were all, I'd merely open your safe and take it.”
“In Heaven's name”
“Careful, Mr. Blaine, or you'll have another heart attack,” Warwick warned. “That was a very clever trick you played on me, and came near to being successful. I honor you for it—but I happen to have the upper hand at present.
“I—I don't understand this,” Blaine said.
There was a note of fear in his voice again. He licked his lips and glanced around the room, especially at the door through which Togo had disappeared.
“You'll understand it in time,” Warwick said.
“Listen to me! I have enemies, and it is possible that some of them have engaged you to do this thing,” Blaine said. “I'll pay you well, pay you better than your employers, if you'll do as I tell you.”
“I'm afraid that we cannot make a deal,” Warwick said, chuckling behind his mask.
“Can't you tell me what you intend doing with me? Am I always to be kept in the dark?”
“Not always, I hope,” Warwick replied. “I am anxious to be gone from here myself before daylight. That is only about three hours away, you know.”
The sound of voices came from below, and Warwick walked across to the door. The expression on Bertram Blaine's face now was one of abject terror, that of a man whose crime had found him out. Warwick, knowing that he was bound securely, gave him not the slightest attention. He stepped into the hall and snapped on the electric lights there.
Togo was coming up the stairs, and three other men were with him. All were dressed in dark suits, each had a mask over his face. The foremost stopped at the head of the stairs, raised one hand above his head, and folded his fingers in a peculiar manner. It was the sign of The Spider.
Warwick answered it and led the way into Blaine's bedroom. One by one the men followed him and arranged themselves against the wall. They did not speak a word.
Bertram Blaine tugged at his bonds, tried to hurl himself from the chair.
“Careful, Mr. Blaine, or you'll have another heart attack,” Warwick said. “If you do, I'll not be as merciful as I was before. Not even a drink of water”
“What does it mean?” Blaine demanded. “What are you going to do with me?”
“For myself, I intend doing nothing except hold you prisoner,” John Warwick told him; “and I am sure that these four companions of mine intend you no harm, if you behave yourself. Wait, Mr. Blaine—just wait!”
Again there came the sound of voices from below, and Warwick threw the hall door open wide and stepped to one side. The voices came nearer, steps sounded in the hall, and two more masked men walked through the door.