“That’s your opinion.  I think differently, my fine fellow,” answered the man insolently.  “I’d advise you to come along quietly.”

Lester Armstrong saw at once that he had been lured into a trap.  It was natural for him to jump to the conclusion that it was for robbery, owing to the fact of his coming into possession of the great Marsh fortune so recently, and a sudden sternness settled upon his face.  He was not used to broils, but this fellow should see that he was not quite a stranger to the manly art of self-defense, and that he had an adversary worthy of his steel.

“Are you coming along peaceably with me, or shall I be obliged to call upon my pals for assistance?” he asked, grimly.

“I propose to defend myself against all odds,” answered Lester, more than angry with himself for falling so easily into the trap that had been so cunningly set for him.

He had but a few dollars in money about him, and the disappointment of his assailant in not finding a large roll of bills would in all probability cause the man to take desperate chances in trying to make away with him.  If he was armed he was at the fellow’s mercy.  There might be half a dozen accomplices in collusion with him, he had little doubt.

Again the cabby uttered that peculiar cough which was half a whistle, and in response two men, whose features were covered by black masks, sprang from the adjacent bushes.

Our hero put up a splendid defense, but the united strength of his three antagonists at length overpowered him.

What was there in the figure of one of the men that seemed so familiar to him? he wondered, and just as they were bearing him to the ground by their united efforts, he suddenly reached forward and tore the mask from his assailant’s face.

One glance, and the horror of death seemed to suddenly freeze the blood in his veins.  His eyes dilated and seemed to nearly burst from their sockets.  The face into which he gazed was that of Clinton Kendale, his cousin.

“You!” he gasped, quite disbelieving the evidence of his own senses.

Kendale laughed a diabolical laugh, while his features were distorted into those of a fiend incarnate.

“I haven’t the least hesitation in admitting my identity,” he said, coolly.  “Yes, you are in good hands, if you give us no trouble, and come along quietly, without compelling us to use further force.”

“What is the meaning of this outrage?” cried Lester, white to the lips.

“That you shall learn all in good time, cousin mine,” replied Kendale, mockingly.

In struggling out of their grasp to better protect himself, Lester fell headlong on the icy ground, striking his head heavily against the gnarled, projecting root of a tree and lying at their feet like one dead.

“He will give us little enough trouble now,” said Kendale, grimly.  “Lend a hand there, both of you, and get him into the house quickly.  I am almost frozen to death here.”