Johnston McCulley

“ CHAPTER IX. THE PORTFOLIO. THE SPIDER looked across the room at his victim, at the man whose treason twenty years before had caused him a decade of suffering. Once more his eyes flashed with anger, and Bertram Blaine cringed.
“The day of retribution!” The Spider said. “It has been long delayed in your case, Bertram Blaine, but it is here at last. You have a few minutes left of life; make the most of them. If there is any request that I can grant—— A condemned man always has a last request granted, you know.” ”

“ The Spider motioned again, and Togo and one of the other men unlashed Blaine's wrists and arms.
“Write what you wish, but be quick about it,” The Spider directed. “I shall give you four or five minutes, but no longer. It is within two hours of daylight.”
Bertram Blaine looked across the room at the supercriminal again.
“You won't let me off?” he asked.
“No. You must pay!”
“I feared that it would come some day,” Blaine said. “I always have feared it. You say that you have suffered, but so have I. You don't know what it is to live a score of years in fear of something. ”

“ The Spider's men scattered, all except Warwick and Togo. The chauffeur sprang up behind the wheel, snapped on the lights, and started the car. They drove rapidly toward the central part of the city.
“Well, John, this is the end,” The Spider said. “I'll drop you and Togo where you say, some place near your rooms. I have two men at home who will carry me into the house.
“Come up this evening, John; come to see Silvia and me. I am The Spider no longer, you know—I'm just a crippled old man who wants to see his niece happy. I've a fortune, John, and I am going to use it in doing good. ”