n you, you don't know anything. And
above all, forget about me. You get the idea?"

"You bet!" replied the girl, as she turned again to her switchboard.

Marsh left the hotel, well satisfied with his progress. It was now
fairly well established that Richard Townsend Merton was the victim
of Clark Atwood.

CHAPTER XV

"DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES"

Up to this time the case had seemed one of the most mysterious with
which Marsh had ever had to deal. Now, however, while elements of
mystery still remained, he had certain definite clues upon which to
work. The little notebook in his pocket might prove to be a key that
would unlock the final barrier. The most important thing before him
now, therefore, was to secure a solution to the cipher. It was of
too important a nature to trust to the mails so Marsh decided to put
it directly into official hands. He glanced at his watch. It was
after six, and being Saturday, it was likely that these men had left
their offices in the Federal Building. At the same time, this was a
very busy branch of the Government and it was just possible that
someone might be lingering late. Marsh decided to take a chance.

It had been clearly impressed upon him by this time that he was no
longer free to come and go unnoticed. At this very moment there
might be a pair of eyes somewhere in that hurrying throng on La
Salle Street ready to follow his every move. However much they might
suspect him, his exact status in the case was probably still a
puzzle to them. He did not believe it safe as yet to betray his
connection with the Government. The problem then was to reach the
Federal Building without being followed.

Marsh called a taxi, and loudly giving an address on the South Side,
was whirled away. Taking out a bill, he laid it on the seat. In a
couple of blocks the taxi was held up for a moment by traffic and
Marsh stepped hastily out and softly closed the door. He dashed up
the street, turned down an alleyway, and half way down the block
turned again through another alley that brought him to a different
street. In these dark, deserted byways he could have instantly
detected any attempt to follow him. A few minutes later he entered
the Federal Building, quite sure that any possible pursuers had been
thrown off the trail.

He found a hard working official still in his office, and showing
his credentials and explaining the object of his visit, Marsh turned
over the notebook. Then he slipped o