town switchboard, which was unlikely because of the
size of the town, it wouldn't work, anyway. Or, if there were two and
he got the wrong one it wouldn't work.

His hand shook slightly as he lifted the receiver and dropped in his
nickel.

"Number, please?" the operator said sweetly.

Rick struggled to imitate the mate's voice. "Say, I have to talk to
that number again. Something I forgot to say."

"What number was that, sir?" the operator asked.

Rick took a chance, based on the number of bells he had heard.

"That New York number," he said. "Forget now what it is. Ain't you got
it written down there?"

"I'll have to have the number, sir," the operator said with firm
sweetness.

Rick grew desperate. "Shucks, lady," he whined nasally. "You ain't
goin' t'make me go through that business with that information gal
again, are you?"

There was a subdued tinkle of laughter. "All right. I'll find it."
There was a brief pause. "That number is Cornish 9-3834. Better write
it down this time."

"I sure will," Rick said. He almost forgot and lapsed back into his
own voice. But he didn't have to write it down. He wasn't forgetting
it.

"What is your number, please?"

He gave it, then waited anxiously. In a moment a voice said, "Garden
View Hotel."

The operator spoke. "One moment, please. Please deposit thirty cents."

Rick did so, and the bells clanged in his ear. When the ringing
stopped, he said briskly, "Mr. James Killian, please."

"Just a minute." Then, "No one registered here by that name."

"Isn't this the Garden Arms Apartments?" Rick asked.

"No. This is the Garden View Hotel. You have the wrong number."

"Oops, sorry," Rick said jubilantly, and hung up.

He walked to the counter and gulped his coffee, put a dime on the
counter and then hurried to the door. The mate was eating a piece of
pie.

On the street, Rick looked for Jerry's car and spotted it at a corner
two blocks away. He walked rapidly toward it, waving as he did so. The
car pulled away from the curb and sped toward him, and he motioned to
Jerry to turn the next corner. He hurried and got there just as the
car did.

"Any luck?" Scotty asked.

"Luck? Touch me, somebody. Listen to this: Captain Killian is at the
Garden View Hotel in New York, registered under a phony name!" He told
them quickly what had happened in the grill and finished, "I'll bet
the mate had orders to phone right after the hearing and let Killian
know what had hap