As he heard the key turn in the lock, Carson Drew stood for a moment as though paralyzed.

Things had happened so rapidly since he had left the train at the Cliffwood station that he could scarcely think logically. The fear that Nancy had been injured had driven everything else from his mind. Now he realized that all unwittingly he had walked into a trap.

Angrily, he jerked at the door, but it would not give. He kicked at it savagely, but after a few minutes was convinced that it could not be broken down even with a ram, for it was made of extra heavy wood. He did not cry out for help, for he realized that there was no one near who could aid him.

At last he sank down into a chair. What a fool he had been not to suspect a plot! It was all clear to him now. Undoubtedly, Gombet had intercepted the telegram which he had sent to Nancy, or in some way had learned of the lawyer’s intended visit to Cliffwood. He had lied about Nancy in order to induce him to come to this house.

“I don’t care what Nathan does to me, if only Nancy is safe,” Carson Drew thought.

What had become of her? He did not believe she had been hurt as Nathan had stated, but it was possible that the miser had taken her prisoner also.

Nervously, Carson Drew paced the floor. The room was dark, but as his eyes became accustomed to it, he noticed a small window far above. The window was heavily barred.

“Evidently this room was fitted up for a prison,” he told himself grimly. “I imagine Nathan Gombet has been biding his time to get me here.”

There was little furniture in the room⁠—nothing but a cot, a table, and a chair. Mr. Drew pulled the table across the room and by standing on it was able to look out of the window.

The courtyard was far below, and one glance disclosed the fact that even if it were possible to break the bars, he could not hope to escape. It would be suicide to drop to the ground, and there was no tree or building near by.

“Nathan thought of everything,” Carson Drew observed dryly. “He has me completely at his mercy.”

Just what Gombet would do with him, Mr. Drew did not know, but he suspected the miser would go to any length to gain his end.

“I’ll never give in to him!” he resolved firmly.

Presently, glancing out of the window again, he noticed a stone house some distance away which appeared not unlike the one in which he was imprisoned.

“Can that be the Turnbull house?” he questioned himself.

He tried to recall the description Nancy had given him, and every detail tallied. He was convinced that the stone house was indeed The Mansion.

“I wonder if Nancy is still there?” flashed through his mind. “Oh, if only she returns to River Heights before that fiend gets his hands on her!” It was characteristic of Carson Drew to think of his daughter’s safety before his own. She was always first.

As the hours dragged slowly on, he kept a close watch of the neighboring house, hoping to catch a glimpse of Nancy or someone to whom he could signal. At noon the colored woman appeared with his luncheon, which consisted of bread and water, shoved through a small hole at the bottom of the door. Mr. Drew drank the water but did not touch the bread.

All afternoon he maintained his watch at the tiny window. The Turnbull home appeared deserted. What had become of Nancy? Had she already departed, or was she, too, held a prisoner at the hands of Gombet?

Toward evening, Carson Drew was startled to hear heavy footsteps in the corridor. He scrambled down from the window, but there was not enough time to move the table back into place.

Nathan Gombet stepped into the room. Carefully locking the door, he placed an oil lamp on the table and gave Carson Drew a gloating grin.

“How do you like it here by this time?” he asked with elaborate politeness.

“Oh, it’s very pleasant,” Mr. Drew returned sarcastically. “You may as well put your cards on the table, Nathan Gombet. What do you want of me?”

Nathan became intently eager.

“You know what I want,” he muttered. “You must pay me for my land and sign a paper that you will not prosecute. If you will do that, I’ll let you go free.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes,” Nathan smiled gleefully. “I want a check for twenty thousand dollars. And if you know what’s wise, you’ll hand it over without batting an eyelash.”

Carson Drew smiled grimly.

“You old reprobate! You’ll never get a cent!”

While he had been talking, Mr. Drew had done fast thinking. Now, he made a sudden spring toward Nathan Gombet, intending to overpower him. Quick as the action was, the old miser was prepared. Taking a step backwards, he deliberately pulled a gun upon the lawyer.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he snarled. “And just for that trick I’m going to tie you up!”

Still covering Mr. Drew with the revolver and never taking his eyes from the lawyer’s face, Gombet cautiously backed up to the door and unlocked it. The heavyset colored woman whom Mr. Drew had seen in the kitchen came into the room so quickly that it was obvious she had been standing just outside the door ready to aid the miser when summoned.

“Tie him up!” Nathan ordered harshly.

“Yes, suh.”

The colored woman disappeared, to return in a few minutes with heavy ropes. As she waddled across the floor she clumsily brushed against Nathan and entangled one of his feet in the rope.

“Take care what you’re doing,” the miser reprimanded her sharply.

He gave the rope a savage kick, and then emitted a howl of pain.

“Tarnation, but that leg does hurt,” he muttered. “Fell on a broken stair step and just about killed myself. Leg’s pained me ever since!” He wheeled upon the colored woman as though she were responsible for his misfortune, but without ceasing to cover Carson Drew with the revolver. “Get a move on there! Tie that man up and be quick about it!”

“Yes, suh.”

Sullenly, the colored woman set herself to the task. With the pistol staring him in the face, the lawyer dared not resist. He was pushed roughly into a chair and securely bound to it with the heavy ropes.

“Now how do you like it?” Nathan Gombet demanded, with satisfaction, when the task had been completed.

Carson Drew did not give him the pleasure of an answer.

“Now, will you come to my terms?”

“I will not!”

Nathan stared at the lawyer in disbelief. He had not believed that Mr. Drew would dare defy him.

“That’s your final decision?”

“It is.”

“You’ll be glad enough to come to my terms when I get through with you, Carson Drew!”

“Do your worst.” Carson Drew smiled provokingly. Then his eyes narrowed. “But remember this. You’ll be brought to justice in the end, and when you are, the law won’t be lenient with you!”

“The law!” Gombet laughed scornfully. “A lot of good it will ever do you! You’ll never see your daughter or your friends again unless you give me the money. Will you sign the papers?”

“I’ve given you your answer. Can’t you understand plain English?”

“All right, I’ve given you your last chance!” Nathan’s face became convulsed with rage. “In a day or so you’ll be glad enough to do as I ask. I’ll starve you to it!”

Carson Drew shrugged his shoulders indifferently. Nathan Gombet saw that his threat had made little impression upon the lawyer.

“And if that ain’t enough to bring you to time,” he added with a wicked laugh. “I’ll get your daughter here, too!”

A look of horror came into Mr. Drew’s eyes.

“You couldn’t do that! Why, you don’t even know where she is!”

“Oh, don’t I? She’s right at the Turnbulls’ house. I can get her here easily any night. Just have to dope her a bit, that’s all.”

“You fiend!” Carson Drew struggled at his bonds, but he was helpless.

Nathan Gombet laughed again, and turned toward the door.

“No more food or water for you,” he called back, as he turned to leave.

Carson Drew heard the key turn in the lock, and then he was left to sober reflection. He did not doubt that Nathan Gombet would attempt to carry out his ugly threat. That night he might enter The Mansion and abduct Nancy. The thought made him ill.

“What can I do?” he asked himself miserably. “Perhaps, after all, I had better do as Nathan asks.”