d passed a restless
night, that the telephone bell rang. Tom, who was on the alert,
was at his auxiliary instrument in a flash. He motioned to Mrs.
Damon to answer on the main wire.

"Hello," she spoke into the transmitter. "Who is this?"

"Are you Mrs. Damon?" Tom heard come over the wire in a deep
voice, and by the manner in which Mrs. Damon signalled the young
inventor knew that, at the other end of the line, was the
mysterious man who had spoken before.

CHAPTER XIX

THE BUZZING SOUND

"Are you Mrs. Damon?" came the question again--rather more
impatiently this time, Tom thought.

"Yes," answered the lady, glancing over at Tom. The extension
telephone was in the same room. Softly Tom switched on the
phonograph attachment. The little wax cylinder began to revolve
noiselessly, ready to record the faintest word that came over the
wire.

"You got a message from me yesterday," went on the hoarse voice.
In vain Tom tried to recall whether or not he had heard it before.
He could not place it.

"Who are you?" asked Mrs. Damon. She and Tom had previously agreed
on a line of talk. "Tell me your name, please."

"There's no need for any names to be used," went on the unknown at
the other end of the wire. "You heard what I said yesterday. Are
you willing to send me those land title papers, if we release your
husband?"

"But where shall I send them?" asked Mrs. Damon, to gain time.

"You'll be told where. And listen--no tricks! You needn't try to
find out who I am, nor where I am. Just send those papers if you
want to see your husband again."

"Oh, how is he? Tell me about him! You are cruel to keep him a
prisoner like this! I demand that you release him!"

Tom had not told Mrs. Damon to say this. It came out of her own
heart--she could not prevent the agonized outburst.

"Never mind about that, now," came the gruff voice over the wire.
"Are you willing to send the papers?"

Mrs. Damon looked over to Tom for silent instructions. He nodded
his head in assent.

"Yes, I--I will send them if you tell me where to get them to you--if
you will release Mr. Damon," said the anxious wife. "But tell
me who you are--and where you are!" she begged.

"None of that! I'm not looking to be arrested. You get the papers
ready, and I'll let you know to-morrow, about this time, where to
send them."

"Wait a minute!" called Mrs. Damon, to gain more time. "I must
know just what papers you want."

"All right, I'll t