"Show what?" Harrigan had scowled at his own writing. "It took some
time to get this, Chief. Oh, I see. Well, the records of the
Westchester Company shows three long-distance calls from the prison
between six o'clock last night and this morning. The first one was at
seven-ten P. M. to a slot booth at the east end of the New York Central
Railroad Station."

"Good!" snapped Drew. "Good! Go on! We're getting there!"

"This call was for seventeen minutes. It was charged to the prison."

"What was the booth number?"

Harrigan consulted his sheet. "I didn't get that," he said, scratching
his head. "Westlake didn't give it to me."

"Go on--we'll get it! Go on! What was the next call?"

"The second call, Chief, was to the State Capitol Building at Albany.
It was for three minutes. No more! I guess that was the warden talking
to the Pardon Clerk, or something like that. We'll forget it, eh?"

"Chop it out!"

"The third and last call, Chief," said Harrigan with haste, "was to the
same telephone-booth at the Grand Central Station. Ah, here's the
number! That's why Westlake didn't give it to me on the first call to
the booth. Number, Gramercy Hill 9845, Chief. That's over near the east
end of the building--on the lower level."

"A quiet place!" mused Drew.

"Yes! Well, Chief, here is the time. The call was for twenty-two
minutes, extending from a quarter to twelve--midnight--to seven minutes
after twelve. It was charged to the Auditing Department of the prison."

Drew rose from his chair. "That covers the hour in which Stockbridge
was murdered!" he declared, reaching for the roll-top of his desk
"That's nice work on your part."

Harrigan flushed slightly. He leaned over and laid the paper upon the
desk. Drew took it, folded it with two fingers forming the creases,
then crammed it into his breast pocket The roll-top came down with a
bang. Harrigan lifted an overcoat from a tree, helped Drew on with it,
and found the detective's hat.

"When will you be back, Chief?" he inquired.

"Hard to say! Get me some French-gray powder. A little will do. I'm
going to see if I can get any fingerprints in that booth. They might
help!"

"Will you be back by night!" Harrigan asked, leading the way through
the door.

"Don't know! Get that powder! Tell Delaney, if he calls up, that I'm
hot after my man. Tell him to stick up where he is, till he hears from
me. Tell Flynn, when he comes in from Morristown, that he can relieve
O'T