below brought him back to his vantage point. The American was sitting in a chair, and Lakington, with a hypodermic syringe in his hand, was holding his arm.
He made the injection, and Hugh watched the millionaire. He was still undecided as to how to act, but for the moment, at anyrate, there was nothing to be done. And he was very curious to hear what Peterson had to say to the wretched man, who, up to date, had figured so largely in every round.
After a while the American ceased staring vacantly in front of him, and passed his hand dazedly over his forehead. Then he half rose from his chair and stared at the two men sitting facing him. His eyes came round to the girl, and with a groan he sank back again, plucking feebly with his hands at his dressing-gown.
"Better, Mr. Potts?" said Peterson suavely.
"I—I——" stammered the other. "Where am I?"
"At The Elms, Godalming, if you wish to know."
"I thought—I thought——" He rose swaying. "What do you want with me? Damn you!"
"Tush, tush," murmured Peterson. "There is a lady present, Mr. Potts. And our wants are so simple. Just your signature to a little agreement, by which in return for certain services you promise to join us in our—er—labours, in the near future."
"I remember," cried the millionaire. "Now I remember. You swine—you filthy swine, I refuse … absolutely."
"The trouble is, my friend, that you are altogether too big an employer of labour to be allowed to refuse, as I pointed out to you before. You must be in
