ront door he no longer troubled to hide it but laid it across the
floors and up the airs to the broken window. There he attached the field
receiver, affixing it to his ear so as to be ready for eventualities.

It was by this time half past six and broad daylight, but Willis had
seen no sign of life and he believed his actions had been unobserved. He
ate a few sandwiches, then lighting his pipe, lay down on the floor and
smoked contentedly.

His case at last was beginning to prosper. The finding of Coburn's
murderer was of course an event of outstanding importance, and now the
discovery of the telephone was not only valuable for its own sake, but
was likely to bring in a rich harvest of information from the messages
he hoped to intercept. Indeed he believed he could hardly fail to obtain
from this source a definite indication of the nature and scope of the
conspiracy.

About eight o'clock he could see from his window a number of workmen
arrive at the distillery, followed an hour later by a clerical staff.
After them came Archer, passing from his car to the building with his
purposeful stride. Almost immediately he appeared in his office, sat
down at his desk, and began to work.

Until nearly midday Willis watched him going through papers, dictating
letters, and receiving subordinates. Then about two minutes to the hour
he saw him look at his watch, rise, and approach the door from the other
office, which was in Willis's line of vision behind the desk. He stooped
over the lock as if turning the key, and then the watcher's excitement
rose as the other disappeared out of sight in the direction of the
filing room.

Willis was not disappointed. Almost immediately he heard the faint call
of the tiny buzzer, and then a voice--Archer's voice, he believed, from
what he had heard in the hotel lounge called softly, "Are you there?"

There was an immediate answer. Willis had never heard Benson speak, but
he presumed that the reply must be from him.

"Anything to report?" Archer queried.

"No. Everything going on as usual."

"No strangers poking round and asking questions?"

"And no traces of a visitor while you were away?"

"None."

"Good. It's probably a false alarm. Beamish may have been mistaken."

"I hope so, but he seemed very suspicious of that Scotland Yard
man--said he was sure he was out for more than he pretended. He thought
he was too easily satisfied with the information he got, and that some
of his quest