ood on a small
table, handy to the bed. Only two people could possibly know he was
there. Van Cleft could not have arrived, as yet. The other bell jingled
impatiently, but Shirley finally heard the voice of the switch-board
girl.

"I'm trying to get you on the other wire, sir. There's a call."

"Don't connect me," he hurriedly ordered, "except to open the switch, so
I may listen. If I hang up without a word, tell the party I will be back
in twenty minutes."

With a hotel telephone girl tact is more important than even the
knowledge of wire-knitting. It was the woman's voice which he had heard
at the hospital. Captain Cronin was anxious to speak to Mr. Williams,
who was calling on Mr. Hepburn! With the biggest jolt of this day of
surprises Shirley disconnected and whistled. Again he laughed--with that
grim chuckle which was so characteristic of his supreme battling mood!
They had found the trail even quicker than he had expected. Fortunate
it was that he had not mentioned his own name in telephoning from
the hospital to Howard. Not a wire was safe from these mysterious
eaves-droppers now. He hurried into a business suit, and left the hotel,
to walk over Thirty-fourth Street to the studio of his friend, Hammond
Bell. Here he was admitted, to find the portrait-painter finishing a
solitary chafing-dish supper.

"Delighted, Monty! Join me in the encore on this creamed chicken and
mushrooms!"

"Too rich for my primitive blood, Hammond. I'm in a hurry to get a
favor."

"I've received enough at your hands--say the word."

"Simply this: I want to experiment with sound waves. I remembered that
once in a while some of these wild Bohemian friends of yours warbled
post-impressionist love-songs into your phonograph. It stood the strain,
and so must be a good one. It is too late now to get one in a shop; will
you lend me the whole outfit, with the recording attachment as well, for
to-night and to-morrow?"

"The easiest thing you know. Let's slide it into this grip--you can
carry the horn."

Three minutes later Shirley made his exit, and soon was shaking hands
with Van Cleft in his own room at the hotel. He sketched his idea
hurriedly, as he adjusted the instrument on the dressing-table near the
telephone.

"When the call comes, be sure to say: 'Get closer, I can't hear you.'
That's the method, and it's so simple it is almost silly." They were
barely ready when the bell warned them. At Van Cleft's reply, when the
call fo