Blindfolded | Page 7

a road branching thrice, with
crosses marked here and there upon it. Underneath was written:
"Third road--cockeyed barn--iron cow."
Then followed some numerals mixed in a drunken dance with half the
letters of the alphabet--the explanation of the map, I supposed, in cipher,
and as it might prove the clue to this dreadful business, I folded the
sheet carefully in an envelope and placed it in an inmost pocket.
The search having failed of definite results, I sat with chair tilted
against the wall to consider the situation. Turn it as I would, I could
make nothing good of it. There were desperate enterprises afoot of
which I could see neither beginning nor end, purpose nor result. I
repented of my consent to mix in these dangerous doings and resolved
that when the morning came I would find other quarters, take up the
search for Henry, and look for such work as might be found.
It was after midnight when I had come to this conclusion, and, barring
doors and windows as well as I could, I flung myself on the bed to rest.
I did not expect to sleep after the exciting events through which I had
passed; yet after a bit the train of mental pictures drawn out by the
surging memories of the night became confused and faded away, and I
sank into an uneasy slumber.
When I awoke it was with a start and an oppressive sense that
somebody else was in the room. The gas-light that I had left burning
had been put out. Darkness was intense. The beating of my own heart
was the only sound I could distinguish. I sat upright and felt for the
matches that I had seen upon the stand.
In another instant I was flung back upon the bed. Wiry fingers gripped
my throat, and a voice hissed in my ear:

"Where is he? Where is the boy? Give me your papers, or I'll wring the
life out of you!"
I was strong and vigorous, and, though taken at a disadvantage,
struggled desperately enough to break the grip on my throat and get a
hold upon my assailant.
"Where is the boy?" gasped the voice once more; and then, as I made
no reply, but twined my arms about him, my assailant saved all his
breath for the struggle.
We rolled to the floor with a thud that shook the house, and in this
change of base I had the luck to come out uppermost. Then my courage
rose as I found that I could hold my man. I feared a knife, but if he had
one he had not drawn it, and I was able to keep his hands too busy to
allow him to get possession of it now. Finding that he was able to
accomplish nothing, he gave a short cry and called:
"Conn!"
I heard a confusion of steps outside, and a sound as of a muffled oath.
Then the door opened, there was a rush of feet behind me, and the flash
of a bull's-eye lantern. I released my enemy, and sprang back to the
corner where I could defend myself at some advantage. It was a poor
chance for an unarmed man, but I found a chair and set my teeth to give
an account of myself to the first who advanced, and reproached the lack
of foresight that had allowed me to lay the revolver under the pillow
instead of putting it in my pocket.
I could distinguish four dark figures of men; but, instead of rushing
upon me as I stood on the defensive, they seized upon my assailant. I
looked on panting, and hardly able to regain my breath. It was not half
a minute before my enemy was securely bound and gagged and carried
out. One of the men lingered.
"Don't take such risks," he said. "I wouldn't have your job, Mr. Wilton,
for all the old man's money. If we hadn't happened up here, you'd have
been done for this time."

"In God's name, man, what does all this mean?" I gasped.
The man looked at me in evident surprise.
"They've got a fresh start, I guess," he said. "You'd better get some of
the men up here. Mr. Richmond sent us up to bring this letter."
He was gone silently, and I was left in the darkness. I struck a match,
lighted the gas once more, and, securing the revolver, looked to the
letter. The envelope bore no address. I tore it open. The lines were
written in a woman's hand, and a faint but peculiar perfume rose from
the paper, it bore but these words:
"Don't make the change until I see you. The money will be ready in the
morning. Be at the bank at 10:30."
The