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Guy Garrick

22. The Man Hunt
Here we were, locked in a little room on the top floor of the mysterious house. I
looked out of both windows. There was no way to climb down and it was too far
to jump, especially in the uncertain darkness. I threw myself at the door. It had
been effectually braced by our captors.
Garrick, in the meantime, had lighted the light again, and placed it by the window.
Forbes, now partly recovered, was rambling along, and Garrick, with one eye on
him and the other on something which he was working over in the light, was too
busy to pay much attention to my futile efforts to find a means of escape.
At first we could not make out what it was that Forbes was trying to tell us, but
soon, as the fresh air in the room revived him, his voice became stronger.
Apparently he recognised us and was trying to offer an explanation of his
presence here.
"He kidnapped me--brought me here," Forbes was muttering. "Three days--I've
been shut up in this room."
"Who brought you here?" I demanded sharply.
"I don't know his name--man at the gambling place--after the raid- -said he'd take
me in his car somewhere--from the other place back of it--last I remember--must
have drugged me--woke up here--all I know."
"You've been a prisoner, then?" I queried.
"Yes," he murmured.
 
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