“It’s impossible to trace all the telephone lines back,” considered
Kennedy, thinking still of the eavesdropping, as we met Burke again
down-stairs. “Perhaps if we begin at the other end, and follow the
wires from the point where they enter the building to the switchboard,
we may find something. If we don’t, then we shall have to work harder,
that’s all.”
With the aid of Burke, who had ways of getting what he wanted from the
management of anything, from a bank to a hotel, we succeeded in getting
down into the cellar quietly.
Kennedy began by locating the point in the huge cellar of the Lodge
where the wires of the two telephones, 100 and 101 Main, entered
underground, that system having been adopted so as to avoid unsightly
wires outside the hotel.
Carefully Craig began a systematic search as he followed the two lines
to the point underneath the switchboard up-stairs. So far nothing
irregular had been apparent.
Craig looked up perplexed, and I feared that he was about to say that
the search must be continued wherever the wires led through the house,
a gigantic and almost impossible task.
Instead, he was looking at a little dark store-room that was near the
point where we were standing. He walked over to it curiously and peered
in. Then he struck a match. In the flickering light we could see a
telephone receiver and a little switchboard standing beside it.
For a moment his hand hesitated on the receiver, as though he were
afraid that by taking it off the hook it might call or alarm somebody.
Finally he seemed to decide that unless something were risked nothing
would be gained. He took the receiver deliberately and held it up to
his ear.
“Do you hear anything?” I asked.
He shook his head as if to discourage conversation. Then he changed the
plugs and listened again. Several times he repeated it. At last he kept
the plugs in for some time, while we waited in the darkness, in silence.
“Evidently some one has tapped the regular telephone wires,” he said to
us at length, “and has run extensions to this little switchboard in
the store-room, prepared to overhear almost anything that goes on over
either set of wires that come in. And they have done more. They must
have tampered with the switchboard up-stairs. Just now I heard the girl
call Shelby’s room. The doctor answered. That trained nurse has arrived
and Miss Walcott has gone to her room as she promised. We can’t take
the time to trace out how it is done, and besides it is too dark at
night to do it, anyhow. Shelby was right.”
For a moment Kennedy tried to puzzle the thing out, as though
determining what was the best course to pursue. Then he stooped down
and began picking up even the burnt matches he had dropped.
“Don’t disturb a thing,” he said to Burke. “We must circumvent this
scheme. Has the last train back to the city gone?”
Burke looked at his watch. “Yes, unfortunately,” he nodded.
“Then I’ll have to send some one back to the city to my laboratory by
automobile,” continued Kennedy. “I can’t wait until morning, for we
shall have to go to the city then. There’s that student of mine――but
he’s pretty tired.”
“I can get a car and a fresh driver for him,” remarked Burke. “Perhaps
he could doze off during the ride. How would that do?”
“It will have to do,” decided Kennedy. “Get the car.”
We went back up-stairs by the way of the kitchen to avoid suspicion,
and while Burke hunted up a car and driver Kennedy found Watkins and
gave him detailed instructions about what he wanted.
“I calculate that it will take him at least four hours to go and get
back,” remarked Kennedy, a few minutes later. “There isn’t anything we
can do yet. I think we had better get a little rest, for I anticipate a
strenuous time to-morrow.”
We passed through the lobby. There was Sanchez, talking to the night
clerk.
“I was down on the dock in front of the Casino when the explosion
came,” we could hear him telling the clerk. “Yes, _sir_, it’s a wonder
any of them were saved.”
“What did you think of that?” queried Burke, in the elevator. “A crude
attempt at an alibi?”
Kennedy shrugged non-committally.
“I think I’ll have Riley watch him until he goes to bed,” continued
the Secret Service man. “I can telephone down from the room. No one is
listening now, at least.”
“By all means,” agreed Craig.
Tired though we were, I do not think we slept very much as we waited
for the return of the car from New York. Still, we were at least
resting, although to me the hours seemed to pass as a shifting
phantasmagoria of fire-balls and explosions strangely blended with the
faces of the two beautiful women who had become the chief actresses
in the little drama. From one very realistic dream in which I saw
Winifred, Paquita, Irene Maddox, and Frances Walcott all fantastically
seated as telephone operators and furiously ringing Shelby’s bell, I
woke with a start to find that it was our own bell ringing and that
Kennedy was answering it.
“The car is back from the city,” he said to me. “You needn’t get up. I
can do this job alone.”
There was no sleep for me, however, I knew, and with a final yawn I
pulled myself together and joined Craig and Burke in the hall as we
went down-stairs as quietly as we could.
Riley had left a hastily scribbled report in the letter-box for Burke,
saying that Sanchez had done nothing further suspicious, but had gone
to bed. Paquita was in her room. Winifred, Mr. and Mrs. Walcott, Irene
Maddox, and all the rest were present and accounted for, and he had
decided on resting, too.
Kennedy sent Watkins off to bed, after taking from him the things he
had brought back from the city, and the early morning, just as it was
beginning to lighten a bit, found us three again in the cellar.
Kennedy carefully reconnoitered the store-room where the telephone
outfit had been placed. It was deserted, and he set to work quickly.
First he located the wires that represented the number 100 Main and
connected them with what looked very much like a seamless iron tube,
perhaps six inches long and three inches in diameter. Then he connected
in a similar manner the other end of the tube with the wires of Main
101.
“This is a special repeating coil of high efficiency,” he explained to
Burke, whom he was instructing, as it occurred to him, just what he
wanted done later. “It is absolutely balanced as to resistance, number
of turns, everything. I shall run this third line from the coil itself
outside and up-stairs through Shelby’s window. Before I go to the city
I want you to see that the local telephone company keeps a couple of
wires to the city clear for us. I’ll get them on the wire and explain
the thing, if you’ll use your authority at this end of the line.”
In spite of the risk of disturbing Shelby Maddox, Kennedy finished
leading the wires from the coil up to his room and placed a telephone
set on a table near the bed. Then he carefully concealed the tube in
the cellar so that under ordinary circumstances no one could find it
or even guess that anything had been done with the two trunk lines.
Shelby was resting quietly under an opiate and the nurse was watching
faithfully. I did not hear Kennedy’s instructions entirely, but I
remember he said that Burke was to be allowed into the outer room and
that Shelby Maddox and Winifred were to talk only over the new line as
he would later direct.
Again we retired to our rooms, and I fell asleep listening to Kennedy
instruct Burke minutely in something which I think was just as much
Greek to the Secret Service man as it was to me. Kennedy saw that it
was and wrote down what he had already said, to make doubly sure.
My sleep was dreamless this time, for I was thoroughly tired. Whether
Kennedy slept I do not know, but I suspect that he did not, for when
he was conducting a case he seemed unable to rest as long as there was
something over which he could work or think.
It seemed almost no time before Kennedy roused me. He was already
dressed――in fact, I don’t think he had taken time for more than a
change of linen.
A hasty bite of breakfast and we were again on the first accommodation
train that went into the city in the cool gray dawn, leaving Burke
with instructions to keep us informed of anything important that he
discovered.
No one for whom we cared saw us leave and we had the satisfaction of
knowing that we should be in the city and at work long before any
one probably knew it. That was a quality of Kennedy’s vigilance and
sleeplessness.
“It’s just as important to guard against prying ears at this end of
the line as the other,” remarked Kennedy, after hurriedly mapping out
a course for ourselves, which included, first of all, calling out of
bed an officer of the telephone company with whom he was intimately
acquainted and whom he could therefore afford to take into his
confidence.
Without a moment’s more delay we hurried down-town from the railroad
station.
Shelby Maddox had given Craig the names of two Curb brokers with whom
he was dealing in confidence, for, although Maddox Munitions was being
traded in largely, it was still a Curb market stock and not listed on
the big exchange.
“They are in the same building on Broad Street,” remarked Kennedy as
we left the Subway at the Wall Street station and took the shortest
cuts through the basements of several tall buildings in the financial
district. “And I don’t trust either one of them any farther than I can
see him.”
It was very early, and comparatively few people were about. Craig,
however, managed to find the janitor of the building where the brokers’
offices were――a rather old structure overlooking that point where Broad
Street widens out and has been seized on by that excited, heterogeneous
collection of speculators who gather daily in a corner roped off from
traffic, known as the Curb market. From the janitor he learned that
there was one small office in the front of the building for rent at a
seemingly prohibitive rate. It was no time to haggle over money, and
Kennedy laid down a liberal deposit for the use of the room.
His tentative arrangements with the janitor had scarcely been completed
when two men from the telephone company arrived. Into our new and
unfurnished office Craig led them, while the janitor, for another fee,
agreed to get us a flat-topped desk and some chairs.
“Whatever we do,” began Craig in a manner that inspired enthusiasm,
“must be done quickly. You have the orders of the company to go ahead.
There’s one line that runs into the office of Dexter & Co., on the
second floor, another to Merrill & Moore on the fourth. I want you to
locate the wires, cut in on them, and run the cut-in extensions to
this office. It’s not a wire-tapping game, so you need have no fear
that there will be any come-back on what you do.”
While the telephone men were busy locating the two sets of wires,
Kennedy laid out on the desk which the janitor brought up on the
freight elevator a tube and coil similar to that which I had already
seen him employ at Westport.
Though the telephone men were as clever as any that the official of the
company could have sent, it was a complicated task to locate the wires
and carry out the instructions that Kennedy had given, and it took
much longer than he had anticipated. At least, it seemed long, in our
excited frame of mind. Every minute counted now, for the advance guard
of office boys, stenographers and clerks had already begun to arrive at
the offices in preparation for the work of the day.
We had fortunately been able to start early enough so that that part
of the work which would have excited comment was already done before
the office workers arrived. As for the rest, on the surface it appeared
only as though some one had rented the vacant office and had been able
to hurry the telephone company along in installing its service.
There was no difficulty about connecting up our own regular telephone,
and as soon as it was done Kennedy hastened to call Westport and the
Lodge on long distance.
“Shelby has awakened much improved after his night’s rest,” he
announced, after a rapid-fire conversation. “Miss Walcott is with him
now, as well as the nurse. I think we can depend on Burke to handle
things properly out there. It’s an emergency and we’ll have to take
chances. I don’t blame Shelby for feeling impatient and wishing he
could be here. But I told the doctor that as long as things were as
they are he had better humor his patient by giving him an outlet for
his excitement than to keep him fuming and eating his heart out in bed,
helpless. Between Winifred and ourselves we ought to keep him occupied.”
I do not think that the telephone men had the faintest idea what it was
that Kennedy was planning to do, and I am quite sure that I did not.
For, in addition to the outfit like that at Westport, he now laid on
the table a peculiar arrangement. It seemed to consist of a metal base,
which he placed near the telephone receiver. From the base three prongs
reached up, and there was attached to it on one side one of those
little flat, watch-case receivers such as are used on office telephones.
It was getting late, and Kennedy and the men from the telephone
company were working as rapidly as possible, testing and adjusting the
connections he had caused to be made.
As I stood by the window, watching the gathering crowd below, I
suddenly realized that the market had opened.
It was as Kennedy had expected. Pandemonium seemed to reign on the
Curb. Buyers and sellers crowded and elbowed one another, wildly
shouting and gesticulating. From the thick of what looked like a
huge free-for-all fight orders and sales were relayed by word of
mouth to clerks standing on the sidewalk, who in turn shouted them to
other clerks in the windows of our own building or others about, or
despatched messengers to offices farther away. It was a curious sight,
and one never to be forgotten.
Passers-by stopped on both sides of the street to look and listen to
the struggling mob, and I soon saw that even the usually electrified
atmosphere of the Curb was this morning more than ordinarily surcharged
with excitement. Far above all the noise and bustle I made out that
there had been overnight a veritable flood of orders from weak holders,
as well as others, to sell Maddox Munitions. It was not the weak
holders we feared so much as the hidden “others” who were seeking to
manipulate the stock.
Our telephone rang and Craig answered it, while the men still worked on
the new line. It was Shelby. He had called up his brokers and had heard
of the market opening.
“Not quite ready yet,” hastened Kennedy. “Go ahead and place your
orders over the regular wire with the brokers. I’ll let you know when
we’re ready and what to do. Don’t worry.”
Kennedy had stationed me now permanently at the window to report what
was happening below. From my eery point of vantage I could now see that
the first flood of selling orders was receding, as Shelby’s brokers
wormed their way in and now and then snapped up a lot of stock offered
for sale. The buying momentarily seemed to stiffen the price which
before had threatened to toboggan.
Yet no sooner had the buying begun than it seemed as if other blocks
of stock were brought up for sale. It was, for all the world, like
a gigantic battle in which forces were hurled here and there, with
reinforcements held in reserve to be loosed at just the right moment.
Who was back of it?
Gradually, in spite of the large purchases which Shelby had made, the
price of the stock worked its way down. I began to understand something
of what was going on. Actually it seemed as though every time there
was an order to buy, coming from either Dexter or Merrill & Moore,
there was a corresponding new order to sell by some other broker.
Thousands of shares were thus being dumped on the market, recklessly,
relentlessly.
It looked as though some one was “wise.” Were the brokers with whom
Shelby was dealing straight? I said as much to Kennedy, but he merely
shook his head and plunged into work deeper.
One after another blocks of stock appeared for sale. There could be
no doubt now that there was a carefully planned quick assault being
made at the very opening of trading to take people by surprise at the
suddenness of the bear raid.
More and more frenzied became the selling and buying. I could imagine
the strain that it placed on Shelby, miles away, forced to take only
the reports that his brokers sent him, and to fling back other and
larger orders to buy.
As the trading progressed it became evident that the offerings of stock
were coming with more surprising regularity. The more I observed the
more I was convinced that there was some collusion here. It was not
chance. Some one was informed of each move of Shelby’s, even before it
could be executed, was enabled to prepare for it, to meet it with a
decided advantage. It was a game being played for high stakes, but as
far as Shelby was concerned, the cards were stacked and marked.
Our telephone rang insistently and Kennedy answered it. It was from
Dexter. They were feeling shaky and worried.
Our door opened and a clerk from the Merrill & Moore firm entered.
He was suave and polite. But back of it all could be discovered the
eagerness to stand from under a possible crash.
“You will readily understand,” the broker hinted, “that under the
circumstances we cannot continue to take Mr. Maddox’s orders over the
telephone indefinitely. Suppose he should repudiate some of them? Where
would we find ourselves?”
Kennedy glanced at the two telephone men, one of whom had straightened
up and was watching the other.
“I understand,” he said, simply, a grim smile flickering about his
mouth. “Just a moment, sir. Walter――keep Dexter on this wire.”
Below on the street I could hear the babel of voices. I knew what it
meant. At both ends of Shelby’s telephone line were traitors. A panic
in the stock was not only threatened. It was here.
Maddox Munitions was on the verge of collapse!