u a beggar, too. So they are playing on
your fears. They promise to release your husband if you will give
them the land."

"Yes, that must be it, Tom. What would you advise me to do? I am
so frightened over this!"

"Do? Don't you do anything!" cried Tom. "We'll fool these rascals
yet. If they got those papers they might release Mr. Damon, or
they might not--fearing he would cause their arrest later. But
we'll have him released anyhow, and we'll save what is left of
your fortune. Put those land papers in a safe-deposit box, and let
me do the rest. I'm going to catch those fellows!"

"But how, Tom? You don't know who they are. And a mere message
over a telephone won't give you a clue to where they are."

"Perhaps not an ordinary message," agreed Tom. "But I'm going to
try some of my new inventions. You said they told you they were
going to call again?"

"That's what they said, Tom."

"Well, when they do, I want to be here. I want to listen to that
message. If you will allow me, I'll take up my residence here for
a while, Mrs. Damon."

"Allow you? I'll be only too glad if you will, Tom. But I thought
you were going to try to get some clue from the drug store where
the mysterious message came from."

"I'll let Ned Newton do that. I want to stay here."

Tom telephoned to Ned to meet him at Mrs. Damon's house, and also
to bring with him certain things from the laboratory. And when Ned
arrived in an auto, with various bits of apparatus, Tom put in
some busy hours.

Meanwhile Ned was sent to the drug store, to see if any clues
could be obtained there as to who had sent the message. As Tom had
feared, nothing could be learned. There were several automatic
'phones in the place, and they were used very often during the day
by the public. The drug clerks took little or no notice of the
persons entering or leaving the booths, since the dropping of a
coin in the slot was all that was necessary to be connected with
central.

"Well, we've got to wait for the second call here," said Tom, who
had been busy during Ned's absence. He had fitted to Mrs. Damon's
telephone a recording wax phonograph cylinder, to get a record of
the speaker's voice. And he had also put in an extension
telephone, so that he could listen while Mrs. Damon talked to the
unknown.

"There, I guess we're ready for them," said Tom, late that
afternoon. But no queer call came in that day. It was the next
morning, about ten o'clock, after Mrs. Damon ha