“What a fiend that man Follansbee is!” Patsy exclaimed at the end. “Thank Heaven you were on hand to ditch his scheme. But what do you make of it now? What do you think Follansbee is up to in connection with Stone?” “I can’t say offhand,” was the reply. “Not a little remains to be seen. I had thought that Stone might be in hiding somewhere, suffering from a guilty conscience; but, on the whole, I was inclined to believe that Follansbee had drawn him into the net. Your revelations leave no doubt of that, and seem to indicate that we have time enough to save Stone. He needs saving, though, that’s certain. So far as I can tell, Follansbee still believes that Stone injected the serum given him for that purpose, and that Crawford is doomed. I was skating on thin ice this afternoon in my interview with the fellow. I didn’t want him to know that I had thwarted him, but I looked for him to guess it. “He ought to have realized at once that, after I had heard his conversation with Stone, I wouldn’t have stood by and allowed the latter to make the injection, knowing as I do what it would have meant. Evidently, however, he thinks I didn’t interfere. He has Stone’s word for it, of course, that the hypodermic was used as directed.” “That must be it,” agreed Patsy. “You were speaking of Follansbee’s attitude toward Stone, though, and the urgent need of interference.” “Exactly. I was going to say that since the rascal apparently thinks the injection was made as planned, he’s convinced he has a strangle hold on Stone. He’s cleaned out the latter’s fortune, and can keep him cowed by drugs and threats. That may be what he plans to do for the present, in anticipation of Crawford’s death. Stone, as I told you, is named as the chief beneficiary in Crawford’s will, and if Follansbee could keep Stone alive and in his power until Crawford passes out, there would be another half a million or so to angle for.” “Great Scott! You mean that Follansbee intends to wait until Stone becomes Crawford’s legal heir, and then plans to swindle Stone out of Crawford’s fortune, as well as the poor devil’s own?” “It wouldn’t surprise me in the least; and when that was accomplished, there wouldn’t be any doubt about the next step. Stone would surely die in turn, but in such a way that no one could prove anything suspicious about his death.” Patsy whistled softly. “It’s a large order,” he remarked; “but that check for four hundred and fifty thousand shows that Follansbee is capable of thinking in big numbers. You’re probably right, therefore; but there’s something about it that beats me.” “What’s that?”