that so-and-so, and they'll trace him down through
the telephone company!"

He started for the door. Mike grabbed his arm.

"Waita minute!" he exclaimed. "We can't do that!"

Mort tore his arm from his partner's grasp. "What's stopping us?" he
demanded.

"The State's Attorney's office!" Mike groaned. "Maybe it's a trap set
by them skunks from the State's Attorney's office. Maybe it's the
start of their telephone tracing of bookmakers!"

Sickly, Mort turned back. His face was still flushed, but three
fourths of his steam was gone.

"Maybe you're right," he admitted. "And if so, what a helluva note
this is!"

I couldn't hold back my curiosity any longer.

"Look," I said. "I have an idea. If it's a joker, perhaps I can talk
him out of it better than you boys. You'll need that wire today, and
the joker might just be drunk and obstinate enough to hang on all day
long to spite you. Maybe he knows you won't dare report it. I'm not
steamed up; maybe I'll reason with him better because I'm not. You
want me to?"

Mort and Mike gave me grateful glances.

"You get ridda that wise guy," Mike said, "and we'll never ferget it!"

"Go to it, chumly," Mort said, "and if you lose that louse, we'll make
it up to you!"

I went over to the booth and, stepping inside, took the receiver from
the hook. I had a jovial, let's-be-friends opener all ready.

"Hello, pal," I said amiably.

The voice that came to my ears was distinctly unlike what I'd
expected. I don't quite know _how_ or _why_ it sounded so strange and
eerie, but it did. It was a man's voice, coming over the wire the way
long distance calls used to sound before they got transmission
technique down pat.

"Hello there," said the voice. "Have they arrived yet?"

It wasn't the voice of a drunk. And if it were that of a practical
joker, the poker-faced quality of it was perfect acting. It sounded
earnestly, eagerly serious.

"You mean Adolf and Benito?" I asked. I was willing to play ball for a
few minutes if it brought results. Besides, I was curious.

"Yes."

"Why do you want to talk to them?" I asked.

"_I_ don't want to talk to them. My boss does," the voice answered.

"Then put your boss on," I said. "I'll talk to him."

"You are neither Hitler nor Mussolini," the voice replied. "He wishes
to speak only to them. He's very busy. Too busy to waste time in idle
conversation. Please fetch Hitler and Mussolini to the wire."

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"I