At the end of the extra ten minutes, Farland lighted one of his big, black cigars and started walking toward the river, following the route the other man had designated over the telephone. He walked slowly and not for an instant did he throw caution aside.
Here and there were dark spots where Farland expected to hear his name spoken, spots where an attack might be made if one was contemplated by foes.
It was as he was passing one of these that a whisper came from the darkness:
The detective whirled toward the sound, one hand diving into a coat pocket and clutching his automatic.
"Be as silent as possible. Do not flash your torch yet; you may do so presently, so you can see who is talking. I am the man who called you up by telephone."
"Come out where I can get a glimpse of you," Farland commanded, ready for trouble.
He could see a shadow detach itself from the patch of gloom in front of him and approach.
"That is close enough for the present!" Farland said. "I'm not taking chances on you until I know who's talking to me."
"I don't blame you, Mr. Farland, under the circumstances. If you are sure there is nobody approaching, I'll come out into the light so you can see my face."
Farland glanced up and down the walk quickly. As he did so, he heard a step behind him. He whirled, the automatic came from his pocket ready for use--and a man crashed into him.
The one who had been talking from the patch of shadow rushed forward at the same instant. Farland managed to fire once, but the shot went wild. Then a third man rushed from the darkness, and the detective had the automatic torn away, and found that he had a battle on his hands.
One man was upon his back, throttling him so that he could not utter a cry. The others were trying to throw him to the ground. Farland wondered whether that single shot had been heard, whether assistance would reach him, for he knew that here was a battle he could not win by force.
Finally they got him down. Something was thrust into his mouth and bandaged there, effectually gagging him. He was turned over on his face, and his wrists were lashed behind him. Then his ankles were fastened, and two of the men, at the whispered instruction of the third, picked him up like a sack of meal and carried him into the deep shadows.