We had taken a suite at
the hotel, but had come to the house of the Blind Spot in order to
decide upon a course of action. And, in a way, that mysterious
barking decided it for us.
We returned to the hotel, and gave notice that we would leave the
next day. Next, we began to make preparations for moving into the
Chatterton Place dwelling.
That afternoon, while in the midst of giving orders for
furnishings and the like, there at the hotel, I was called to the
telephone. It was from a point outside the building.
"Mr. Fenton?"--in a man's voice. And when I had assured him; "You
have no reason to recognise my voice. I am--Rhamda Avec."
"The Rhamda! What do you want?"
"To speak with your sister, Mr. Fenton." Odd how very agreeable
the man's tones! "Will you kindly call her to the telephone?"
I saw no objection. However, when Charlotte came to my side I
whispered for her to keep the man waiting while I darted out into
the corridor and slipped downstairs, where the girl at the
switchboard put an instrument into the circuit for me. Money
talks. However--
"My dear child," the voice of Avec was saying, "you do me an
injustice. I have nothing but your welfare at heart. I assure you
that if anything should happen to you and your brother while at
Chatterton Place, it will be through no fault of mine.
"At the same time I can positively assure you that, if you stay
away from there, no harm will come to either of you; absolutely
none! I can guarantee that.
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