He was fuming and wishing that he could be at both
ends of the line at once.
"Any word from Chicago yet?" appealed an anxious voice from the
doorway.
We turned. There were Carroll and Williams who had come for us
with an automobile to go over to watch at the wharf in Brooklyn for
our man. It was Carroll who spoke. The strain of the suspense
was telling on him and I could readily imagine that he, like so
many others who had never seen Kennedy in action, had not the faith
in Craig's ability which I had seen tested so many times.
"Not yet," replied Kennedy, still busy about his apparatus on the
table. "I suppose you have heard nothing?"
"Nothing since my note of last night," returned Williams impatiently.
"Our detectives still insist that Bolton Brown is the man to watch,
and the disappearance of Adele DeMott at this time certainly looks
bad for him."
"It does, I admit," said Carroll reluctantly. "What's all this
stuff on the table?" he asked, indicating the magnets, rolls, and
clockwork.
Kennedy did not have time to reply, for the telephone bell was
tinkling insistently.
"I've got Chicago on the wire," Craig informed us, placing his hand
over the transmitter as he waited for long-distance to make the
final connection.
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