Under the big moon's yellow disk, beside and past the roaring train,
along the silent reaches of the Sound, leaping on its copper thread from
pole to pole, jumping from insulator to insulator, from town to town,
sped a message concerning Henry VIII. The night operator at New Haven,
dozing over a paper in the corner, heard his call four times before he
came to his senses. Then he sent the answer rattling back with a
simulation of indignation:
"Yes, yes! What's your rush?"
Special--Police--Headquarters--New Haven. Escaped
ex-convict Welch on No. 13 from New York. Notify
McGinnis. In complete disguise. Arrest and notify.
Particulars long-distance 'phone in morning.
EBSTEIN.
The operator crossed the room and unhooked the telephone.
"Headquarters, please."
"Yes. Headquarters! Is McGinnis of the New York Detective Bureau there?
Tell him he's wanted, to make an important arrest on board No. 13 when
she comes through at two-twenty. Sorry. Say, tell him to bring along
some cigars. I'll give him the complete message down here."
Then the operator went back to his paper. In a few moments he suddenly
sat up.
"By gum!" he ejaculated.