ver what you have said, and to ask you a
few questions."

"Good. I will answer your questions like a little man."

Argetti appeared more and more amazed, and he sat for a long time eyeing
our hero without speaking one word. The interview would appear to have
been very embarrassing. When Argetti spoke there was a depth of
suppressed passion in his tone.

"Have you come here to amuse yourself at my expense?"

"Yes," came the bold and really insulting answer.

The Italian leaped to his feet exclaiming:

"You miserable little fool, I'll wring your neck as I'd wring the neck
of a squab."

Oscar did not move or betray any fear or nervousness. He merely laughed
his "hee, hee, hee!" and said soothingly:

"Now don't become violent, old fellow; don't become violent, even if I
am having a little fun at your expense."

"You dare tell me you are here to have fun at my expense?"

"Certainly," came the brazen answer.

The very boldness and indifference of the detective appeared so paralyze
to the Italian.

"Do you know the risk you take?"

"Certainly."

"You think I am a mere puppet for your amusement?"

"Certainly, but don't get violent, for I am an awful fellow when I get
roused. Sometimes I have a spell come over me--yes, a strange sort of
spell--and then I become very, very violent. So don't arouse me and
bring on one of those spells. Just sit down and let me amuse myself at
your expense. This is a very novel amusement for me. The idea of facing
a terrible man right in his den and enraging him. Why, it's just jolly."

The Italian's eyes glowed like coals of fire as he said:

"You are lying; you came here with a purpose; you came back with friends
whom you think you can summon at a moment's notice; but they will never
come; I have taken care of them, and you are at my mercy. I have a grave
all prepared under this flooring, and unless you give a satisfactory
explanation of your visit here _you_ will occupy that grave."

"Well, well, you are very amusing. You act just like some terrible
brigand. I guess you were a brigand in your own country."

The words had just escaped our hero's lips when with a yell the Italian
leaped upon him. Oscar was prepared for the spring. He leaped to his
feet in time to meet his assailant, and in true fistic style, as the
man attempted to seize hold of him, our hero let fly and caught his
dark-faced assailant on the chin and over the man went. But with a yell
he leaped to his feet,