Paddy was right. Only time will cure that."
Nothing happened to us, however, and in a couple of hours we dropped
in on Orton at the hospital where he was slowly convalescing.
"What do you think of the case?" he asked anxiously.
"Nothing as yet," replied Craig, "but I have set certain things in
motion which will give us a pretty good line on what is taking place
in a day or so."
Orton's face fell, but he said nothing. He bit his lip nervously
and looked out of the sun-parlour at the roofs of New York around
him.
"What has happened since last night to increase your anxiety,
Jack?" asked Craig sympathetically. Orton wheeled his chair about
slowly, faced us, and drew a letter from his pocket. Laying it
flat on the table he covered the lower part with the envelope.
"Read that," he said.
"Dear Jack," it began. I saw at once that it was from Miss Taylor.
"Just a line," she wrote, "to let you know that I am thinking about
you always and hoping that you are better than when I saw you this
evening. Papa had the chairman of the board of directors of the
Five-Borough here late to-night, and they were in the library for
over an hour. For your sake, Jack, I played the eavesdropper, but
they talked so low that I could hear nothing, though I know they
were talking about you and the tunnel.
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