"You take the matter too seriously," objected Forrester. "And you don’t realize how serious the affair is, Bob," asserted Prentice. "The claims of these detectives have given you too much confidence. Even if they do capture some men tomorrow night, there may be others of the band who will seek revenge. I cannot urge you too strongly to place that money in the tree and assure your own safety. The history of the case—" Prentice was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone bell once more. He paused, with an astonished look on his face, and Forrester laughed. "Unquestionably my busy night," said Forrester, as he picked up the receiver. Forrester’s face also expressed amazement, as he listened, and he placed one hand over the transmitter while he remarked in an aside to Prentice, "A woman’s voice this time!" Then, speaking into the telephone, he said, "Yes, this is Mr. Forrester." "I want to get some information," said the woman’s voice, "that is vitally important to you. I must know at what hour you will place the money in the tree tomorrow night." "Who are you?" inquired Forrester. "I cannot tell you that now," replied the voice, "but let me assure you that I am absolutely friendly to you. It is chiefly in your interest that I want this information." "But," protested Forrester, "it is a matter in which I cannot be too free in furnishing information to strangers." "I know," admitted the voice, "but you’ll have to trust me for the present." "Are you a lady reporter?" asked Forrester. "No." "Are you securing the information for a reporter?" "No." "Are you connected in any way with a newspaper?" "No." "Are you a lady detective then?" and Forrester could not restrain a slight laugh. "It is useless for you to ask questions," declared the voice. "I am asking information—not giving it." "But favors beget favors," protested Forrester. "You are not doing me a favor," returned the woman. "This is in your own interest." "Well, then, if you insist," acceded Forrester, "I will take the risk and inform you that I expect to visit the tree at ten-thirty tomorrow night." "Thank you," was the reply, and the receiver was hastily hung up. "I don’t understand these telephone calls at all," said Prentice. "What do you make of them, Bob?" "I fancy your first idea was correct," returned Forrester. "It is my opinion that these thick-headed detectives have talked too freely to the newspaper reporters about their new plan, and that we are simply going to have a convention of the press at the tree tomorrow night." Prentice laughed heartily. "Perhaps you are right, Bob," he agreed. "If I had not had such a trying experience with these people myself, I should have liked to be a spectator, too. As it is, I imagine it will be safer to keep out of the way. And now," he added, rising, "I believe I would better go. I want to drive out early in the morning, and you, too, should have a good night’s sleep."