"During last summer several other wealthy men received demands for money. So far as I have knowledge of the matter, they either paid the money, or were later found dead. With the first fall of snow the activities of this band ceased. A detective, detailed to the case, told me he thought they had stopped operations because of the snow. When they approached the tree, he explained, they would naturally leave tracks in the snow, in that way giving some hint to the police. I was inclined to believe, on the other hand, that they had obtained all the money they wished; or else had concluded that the police were aroused to such an extent that it would be dangerous to keep on. This notice to you, however, seems to indicate that the detective with the snow-theory was pretty nearly right. Probably this warning to you is the beginning of another war to be waged upon the wealthy men of the city this summer." "Your story is certainly interesting, Prentice," said Forrester, "but something really ought to be done. If these men are allowed to prey upon wealth in this mysterious way, there is no limit to the harm which they may accomplish. Why, just think of it! Unmolested, they might become bolder and bolder, and by steadily levying this secret toll, practically ruin every wealthy man in Chicago." "Well," returned Prentice, "probably sooner or later the police will get them. So far as I am concerned, however, I would pay over the money at any time rather than have another experience such as the one I described to you. If you want to hire detectives, Bob, or stir up the police as I did, do so, by all means, but in the meantime take my advice and pay the money." At this moment an attendant approached, informing Forrester that he was wanted on the telephone. Excusing himself to Prentice, Forrester went to the telephone to find that his mother was calling him. "Son," she said, "Mr. Nevins has met with a serious accident. Josephine and I are going over to see Mrs. Nevins. She has just telephoned, asking us to call and stay with her the rest of the day; so we shall not be home to dinner. I wanted you to know so you would not worry about us." "All right, Mother," replied Forrester. "I’ll phone the house later and if Charlie is going to be in this evening I’ll run over and bring you home. Good-bye." The Nevins family and his own had been close friends for years. This friendship was about to be turned into relationship through the recently announced engagement of Forrester’s sister, Josephine, to Charles Nevins, the banker’s son. Forrester hung up the receiver and returned to the lounging room to rejoin Prentice. As he crossed the room he saw that Prentice was reading one of the sensational evening papers, for even from a distance Forrester could read the glaring headlines: "FRIENDS OF THE POOR" COMMIT NEW MURDER