"That same.... Hullo. Yes.... Splendid! But listen, Susan, I'm coming round right after breakfast, and I'm going to get your goat! ... No, but you've got to play the game! Now look here, where did Joe leave you? ... Tower Hill? ... So you didn't keep your promise? ... Jerusalem--who? ... Damn it.... Oh, all right. S'long!" He hung up the receiver. "Saw the getaway and recognised someone," he explained as he came back. "This code, now. It's Morse. Short and long syllables equal dots and dashes. But some of the signals are too long to get into one word, so _ping_ or _a_ equals _dot_, and _pong_ equals _dash_. When more than one word or letter goes to make up a signal the phrase is enclosed in commas. Groan in it ping, for instance, is _dash-dot-dot-dot_. The words are easy. _Allay: dot-dash--contemptibly: dot-dash-dot-dot_--and so forth. Here's the whole shoot, in case you can't read Morse." He tossed over a slip of paper, and Teal read the scribbled words with interest. "_All bases. Urgent. Take A. No. 2. Kill H. Urgent. Apex._" "Clever," was Teal's grudging comment. "What do we do about it, Chief?" "Give it back to Birdie and try to kid him you've decided it was innocent. That'll be a job, but it'll have to be done. If the orders don't go out through the Era, they'll go out some way else, and knowing their code 'll be useful if they try it on again. I'm A, of course, and I'm to be taken. But who is 2--or is it a place?" "Most likely another nest of theirs. There are probably several--the Triangle wouldn't risk everything on one being unsuspected." "Probably," Storm agreed. "And H is to die--being apparently more dangerous than me. There's a bouquet!" It was nearing seven, and he went up the outside stairs to call his manservant and order breakfast. Cork was already astir, and in an astonishingly short time steaming coffee and delicate slices of golden-brown toast were on the table, and a great dish of fried eggs and bacon was set before them, still sizzling seductively from the pan. "This will about save my life," Teal said appreciatively, and heaved himself from his chair. Across the food Storm regarded him. "If Miss Hawthorne is the H referred to," he said, "there're going to be a whole lot of three-cornered funerals in the near future. And the Big Triangle 'll be among those present! From now on I'm going gunning for Triangles!" The detective stared, for if he had seen the words in cold print he would have refused to believe that they could be invested with such a crisp, arctic, incisive malevolence. Storm's voice was very quiet, very suave--but the quietness was like that which comes between the flash of lightning and the answering crackle of its destruction; and the suaveness was not of velvet, but of polished metal.... "The Law," began the respectable Mr. Teal feebly, and then stopped, having met the frosty gaze of those level grey eyes. "Skunkrot the Law!" said Storm, very gently.