stem: wire tapping
with science. He was able to trap the confederate with his own mesh of
copper now.

"I want to see you right away. Some cash for you. I'm sick with a cold
in the throat so don't keep me waiting. Go up town and stand in the
doorway at 192 West Forty-first Street. Don't let anybody see you while
you wait there, so keep back out of sight. How soon can you be there?"

"Oh, in half an hour if I hurry. Any trouble? You certainly have a bum
voice, Chief. But how will I know it's you?"

"I'll just say, 'Telephone,' and then you come right along with me, to a
place I have in mind. Don't be late, now! Good-bye."

Shirley drew out the connection and tried the exchange labelled
"Rector." Instantly a pleasant girl's voice inquired the number desired.

"Bryant 4802-R."

This was the Hotel California.

The operator on the switchboard of the hostelry replied.

"Give me Miss Marigold's apartment, please."

Helene's voice was soon on the wire. Shirley asked for Warren in a gruff
tone.

"What do you want?" was that gentleman's musical inquiry, in the tones
which were already so familiar to the criminologist.

"Chief, dis is de Rat. I wants to meet you down at de Blue Goose on
Water Street in half an hour. Kin you'se come? It's important."

The other was evidently mystified.

"The Rat? What do you mean? I don't know you. Ring off!"

Shirley heard the other receiver click. He held the wire, reasoning
out the method of the intriguer. Soon there was a buzz in his ear, and
Warren's voice came to him. It was droll, this reversal of the original
method, which had been so puzzling.

"What number is this?"

"Rector 4471, sir," answered the criminologist in the best falsetto tone
he could muster. Then he disconnected with a smile. This was turning the
tables with a vengeance. But he knew that he must be getting away from
the den before the possible investigation by Warren or his lieutenant.
There were many things he would have liked to study about the place.
But his curiosity about the telephone had made it impossible for him to
remain. It was a costly mistake, as events were destined to prove!

He hurried out of the compartment, into the tunnel, up the rope and
through the window. He replaced the knotted rope, exactly as it had been
before. He put a few drippings of molten lead from the bubbling pot,
under the wash-stand of the bathroom, to carry out the illusion of his
work as plumber. Then he departed from