"Sore because I smashed your face!" Murk said. "That'll be about all out of you! I may take a smash at you yet!" "You've got a good chance while my hands and feet are tied," Murk replied. "It's the only time you could get away with it, all right! Turn me loose and I can clean up the two of you!" "You're not doin' any cleanin' for the present," he was told. Murk began wondering at the object of the assault upon him. He could feel the roll of bills Prale had given him bulging his vest pocket, so he guessed robbery was not the motive. He managed to sit up on the sofa now, and he glared at the two thugs before him with right good will. One of the men went back into the adjoining room, and the other remained standing before Murk, sneering at him, his hands opening and closing as if he would take Murk's throat in them and choke the life out of Sidney Prale's valet and comrade in arms. Then the man who had left the room returned, and there was another with him. Murk looked at this stranger with sudden interest. He was well dressed, Murk could see, but he wore an ulster that had the wide collar turned up around his neck, and he had a mask on his face--a home-made mask that was nothing more than a handkerchief with eye slits cut in it. "Afraid to show yourself, are you?" Murk sneered. "Who are you--the chief thug?" The masked man pulled a chair up before the sofa and sat down. His eyes glittered at Murk through the slits in the handkerchief. "You are not going to be harmed, my man--if you are reasonable," he said. "Reasonable about what?" Murk demanded. "We want some information and we think you can give it to us; that is all." "I don't know much," said Murk. "Tell us why you were prowling around that house near the Park." "Maybe I was takin' a walk," Murk answered. "And maybe you were spying, as I happen to know you were. We assume that Sidney Prale sent you to watch the comings and goings of a certain young woman and her friends." "Go right ahead assumin'." "It will avail you nothing, my man, to adopt this attitude," Murk was told. "And it might help you a great deal if you are willing to listen to reason." "I'm listenin'," Murk replied. "You haven't been working for Sidney Prale very long, have you?" "Only a few days--since you seem to know all about it, anyway. Why ask foolish questions?" "Very well. We understand that Prale kept you from committing suicide and then gave you a job. There is no reason why you should feel an overwhelming gratitude for Prale. He merely got a valet cheap." "What about it?" Murk growled. "Sidney Prale has a million dollars, but you'll never see much of it. He isn't the sort of man to toss his money away. And there are others, not particularly Prale's friends, who have many millions between them." "Well, that ain't doin' me much good." "But it may do you a lot of good. We want information and we stand ready to pay for it."