Part 30 (1/2)

”Quite. You have done nothing to interfere with his coming or going, I trust.”

”Nothing.”

Stapleton glanced at the clock. ”He will be here very soon, now. May I ask you to wait in my study, upstairs? It would never do for you to be here. The man might be afraid to enter.”

”No--you are right. I must not be here. But I prefer not to wait in the study. I have another plan.”

”What is it?” inquired the banker, uneasily.

”Where is Francois, your chauffeur?”

”At his dinner, I believe. Why?”

”Will you kindly find out for sure? I want to go to his room.”

Mr. Stapleton summoned a servant, who told him that the chauffeur was just finis.h.i.+ng his dinner. ”You will be very careful, Duvall,” he said, anxiously. ”I don't want anything done which will alarm these fellows.”

”Oh, Francois won't see me. I shall keep out of his sight. Perhaps I had better go up now.” He nodded to the banker, and at once ascended the stairs which lead to the servants' quarters.

At the door of the chauffeur's room he paused. It was closed. He pushed it gently open, and in a moment was in the room. The place was quite dark; but by means of a pocket light Duvall soon found the closet, and a moment later was safely ensconced within. He left the door ajar, and to his satisfaction found that he could see through the north window without difficulty. Here he waited, until the chauffeur should arrive.

Mr. Stapleton, meanwhile, sat grimly in the library below, waiting for the coming of the kidnapper. Promptly at eight o'clock, his butler announced that the man had arrived.

”Show him in at once,” exclaimed the banker, as he rose and began to walk up and down the room.

In a moment the man came into the library. His powerful figure, his black beard, his a.s.sured manner, rendered him an easily recognized figure.

”I have come, Monsieur, as I said I would,” he remarked, calmly. ”I trust you have the money in readiness.”

Stapleton stepped over to the desk and picked up the package of banknotes. ”Here it is,” he growled. ”I understand that you will, in return for this money, send me word at once as to where my son is to be found.”

”Within half an hour, Monsieur, at the latest; provided, of course, I am not interfered with in my escape.”

”There will be no interference, until I get back my boy. After that, I shall spend another hundred thousand dollars, if need be, to bring you to justice.”

”That, Monsieur, is quite within the terms of our agreement. The moment you receive the address, you are free from any obligation to me. May I see the money?” He extended his hand.

Mr. Stapleton placed the banknotes in it. ”Count them,” he growled, ”and a.s.sure yourself that you have received the amount you demand.”

The kidnapper sat down with the utmost coolness and began to count over the notes. They were all of large denomination, and the operation consumed but a few moments. As soon as he had finished, the man placed the bundle of notes carefully in an inside pocket and rose. ”The amount is correct, Monsieur,” he said. ”Permit me to bid you a very good evening.” Without further delay, he bowed, took up his hat, and left the room.

At the door he glanced quickly at his watch, then strode off up the street at a rapid pace, toward the Arc de Triomphe.

For some eight or ten minutes he walked, at the expiration of which time he arrived at the Place de l'etoile, and at once crossed to the pavement surrounding the great triumphal arch.

Up and down the twelve great avenues which radiate from the Place of the Star flashed innumerable automobiles, coming and going like huge jeweled fireflies.

The kidnapper paused at a point on the very outer edge of the circular pavement which surrounds the arch, and waited, expectant, his eyes fixed upon the broad sweep of the Champs elysees.

For some moments he stood thus, rigid, motionless. Suddenly a big black racing car swept from the line of traffic and approached the curb. The man on the sidewalk raised his hand, and made a momentary gesture. The car quivered to the side of the street, pausing but the fraction of a second as the tall figure of the kidnapper stepped in. Another moment, and it had swept around the great arch and was flying down the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne.