an Cleft and the newspapers
sure that you are the most wonderful sleuth inside or outside the public
library. Here's your office--speak up. Let me lift you."

"Hello Pat!" called Cronin, as his superintendent came to the 'phone. "I
am detained at Bellevue, so that I can't be there when Van Cleft comes
down. Let him Third Degree that little Jane from the garage. Keep them
two men apart, too--oh, that's all right, the fellow is a friend of mine
on the 'Frisco police force. He won't butt in." Silence for a moment,
then: "Oh, shucks, let 'em yowl! They've got more than kidnapping to
worry about for the next twenty-five years."

He hung up the receiver, sinking back on his pillows wan from the
strain. Monty handed him a glass of water, and adjusted the bandages
with a hand as tender as a woman's. He lifted the instrument again.

"You are sterling, twenty-two carat and a yard wide, Captain! Now, get
to sleep while I find out who the ring-master is. I've sworn to keep
awake until I do. I think it well to telephone Van Cleft, and arrange
for a better get-a-way for us both."

He was soon talking with the son of the murdered man. "Meet me down at
the Vanderbilt Hotel--ask for Mr. Hepburn's room, and send up the name
of Williams. See you in an hour. Good-bye."

Hanging up the receiver, he turned toward the door, after a friendly pat
on Cronin's shoulder. The bell rang, and the Captain reached for it, to
sink back exhausted upon the bed. Shirley answered, to be greeted by a
pleasant feminine voice.

"Is this Captain Cronin?"

Instantly the criminologist replied affirmatively, suiting his tones as
best he could to the gruff voice of the detective chief, with a wink at
that worthy.

"I just called up, Captain, to ask about you--Oh, you don't recognize my
voice. I'm Miss Wilberforce, private secretary to Mr. Van Cleft. Has any
one been to see you yet? I understand that you are very busy, and have
already missed two other good cases, this one being the THIRD! Well,
don't hurry, Captain. You may get the rest to come--if you live long
enough. Good-bye!"

Shirley looked at Cronin, startled. Another mention of the mystic
number. He called for information about the origin of the call.

"Lordee, son! Are they at it again?" asked Cronin in disgust.

"Yes--overdoing it. One thing is clear, that whoever is behind this
telephone trickery is very clever, and very conceited over that
cleverness. It may be a costly vanity. Yes, informa