"Hands up!" whispered a man with a mask over his nose and forehead, a growth of black whiskers concealing the rest of his face. Frightened beyond ability to shout the servant held up his hands, and was gagged in a jiffy and his hands tied behind his back. At the point of a revolver he was motioned to lie down on the deep cushioned lounge, and by the look of the man who held the weapon, he was convinced that he must obey or be killed. Villard, abstracted, had not even looked up from the desk where his eyes searched a document. Apparently he had been oblivious to the almost noiseless hold-up within forty feet from where he sat, his back being turned toward the great empty space over which the intruder had walked to a chair by his side. The next thing he knew he was looking into the muzzle of a revolver, with silencer attachment. That was enough. He didn't care to look at the person who held it. But in a carefully modulated voice he said-- "I am a very sick man. I'm given up to die by the doctors. I am putting my affairs in order," he concluded, but without seeming interest in how his words had been taken. "Do you know who I am?" demanded the man, his voice husky with passion. "Yes, William, I know you," replied Villard wearily, as the boy Jacques, alarmed, listened to the conversation. "I've come to square accounts with you, Drury Villard. I'm a desperate character and I don't care what happens," said Parkins tearing the mask from his face. "You drove me into slavery, and all because you loved my sweetheart. You coveted my woman and you tore her from me by the use of your hirelings. You bought up the law by using Updyke's crooked bunch of highwaymen. He sicked Carver onto me, who tore my Winifred away--then your soulless lieutenant put me through a hell of mental torture--and that's what I am going to do to you!" [Illustration: "I'VE COME TO SQUARE ACCOUNTS WITH YOU DRURY VILLARD!"] "Very well, William--since you have assumed to judge me by the action of another. You seized Winifred in an illegal manner. I owed the girl a certain hospitality, since I rescued her, and took her into my home where she was nursed back to life," said Villard, in a very even tone of voice. "You rescued her!--you mean, that because she struck your fancy you gathered her up and took her into your home and tried to win her love!" shouted Parkins, not caring who heard him. "Now I want to know what you've done with her--if she is on these premises, produce her!" "I am unable to do that." "Then you refuse?" "She isn't here--she hasn't been here since she went back to Patchogue." "Is she there now?" "No." "Where is she--speak up Villard! I am in a dangerous mood." "I refuse to answer," replied the old time friend and employer of Parkins. "I'll give you one minute, and if you have not answered by that time I shall give you a 'third degree' with the butt of this gun."