As soon as Mrs. Damon's house
was in connection with another telephone, the location of the
latter would be noted, and another private detective would be sent
there. Thus Tom hoped to catch the man at the 'phone.
Meanwhile Tom listened to the hoarse voice at the other end of the
wire, giving the directions to Mrs. Damon. Tom hoped that soon
there would be an arrest made.
Meanwhile the talk was being faithfully recorded on the phonograph
cylinder. And, as the man talked on, Tom became aware of a curious
undercurrent of sound. It was a buzzing noise, that Tom knew did
not come from the instrument itself. It was not the peculiar
tapping, singing noise heard in a telephone receiver, caused by
induced electrical currents, or by wire trouble.
"This is certainly different," mused Tom. He was trying to recall
where he had heard the noise before. Sometimes it was faint, and
then it would gradually increase, droning off into faintness once
more. Occasionally it was so loud that Mrs. Damon could not hear
the talk about the papers, and the man would have to repeat.
But finally he came to an end.
"This is all now," he said, sharply. Tom heard the words above the
queer, buzzing, humming sound. "You are keeping me too long. I
think you are up to some game, but it won't do you any good, Mrs.
Damon. I'll 'phone you to-morrow where to send the papers.
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