Before leaving the house, Darrow summoned Jack Warford.
"Come on, old bulldog," said he. "You're to live with me a while now. The game is closing down."
"Bully," said Jack. "I'll pack a suit case."
"Have it done for you, and sent down to my place. We must hustle for the Atlas Building now."
"What's doing?" asked Jack, as they boarded a surface car.
"Absolutely nothing--for some time perhaps. But we must be ready. And the waiting will be amusing, I promise you that."
When they arrived at the Atlas Building, Darrow was surprised to find Simmons already in charge of the office.
"Thought you were on night duty," said he.
"I am," replied Simmons curtly. "But judging by what you said this morning, I considered I'd better be on the job myself."
"Good boy," approved Darrow. "I see I've made no mistake in you. Just stick it out twelve hours more, and we'll have it settled. Anything more?"
Simmons thrust a message across the table.
Darrow took it quite calmly. At this moment Hallowell entered.
"What time did this come?" asked Darrow, nodding to the reporter.
"At twelve thirty."
Darrow nodded twice with great satisfaction.
Then quite deliberately he unfolded the paper and perused its contents. Without change of expression he handed it to Hallowell. The latter read aloud:
"TO THE PEOPLE: A traitor is among you--one who has betrayed you, one and all, but whom you cherish to your bosoms as a viper. I, who am greater than you all, have laid my commands upon him, and he has seen fit to disobey. He is now in hiding among you. This man must be produced. I would not willingly harass you, but this, my will, must be carried out. If he is not found by six to-morrow a sign will be sent to you that you may believe. I am patient, but I must be obeyed."
"Now, what do you think of that!" cried Hallowell. "He doesn't even mention the name of his friend to the dear people who are to hunt him down! Fine dope!"
Darrow's face expressed a sleepy satisfaction. He stretched his arms and yawned.
"You might supply the deficiency," he suggested. "Well," he remarked to Jack, "that settles it. Everything's running like a catboat in a fair wind. He's in communication with us; he is gaining confidence in his inflated imaginary importance; we are to have a continuance of his peculiar activities; and we can put our hands on him at a moment's notice."
"What!" shouted Hallowell and Jack Warford, leaping to their feet.
"Where is he?" demanded the reporter.
"How do you know?" cried Jack.
Simmons, his head-piece laid aside, looked up at him in silent curiosity.
"It is sufficient for now that I do know," smiled Darrow. "As for how I know, that last wireless proved it to me."
All three men immediately bent over the message for a detailed perusal. After a minute's scrutiny, Hallowell looked up in disappointment.
"Too many for me," he confessed. "What is there in that?"
But Darrow shook his head.
"I play my own game," was all the explanation he would vouchsafe.
"You may as well knock off, old man," he told Simmons. "I don't think there'll be anything more doing to-night; and it doesn't matter if there is. Tell your other man to jot down anything from that sending, if any comes. Now," he turned to Hallowell, "I want to see your managing editor."
The three took the subway to City Hall Square. The managing editor received Darrow with much favor as the vehicle of a big scoop brought in far enough ahead of going to press to permit of ample time for its development.
"Now, Mr. Curtis," said Darrow to this man, "this is going to be an interesting week for you. Here's your last exclusive despatch. From to-morrow morning every paper in town will naturally get every wireless that comes in."
"H'm," observed Curtis, reading the despatch. "What next?"
"He'll fulfil his threat. To-morrow evening at six o'clock he will stop the vibrations either of light, of electricity, or of sound--probably of electricity, as he has appointed the rush hour."
"Most likely," Curtis agreed.
"Warn the people to keep out of the subways, and not to get scared. Take it easy. There............