"The man who can control the juice as this man has is a scientific expert with a full scientific equipment. If he communicated at all, it would be by wireless, as that is the easiest way to cover his trail. I remembered your telephone message from the fanatic about sending a 'sign'. Immediately after, the Atlas Building experienced on a small scale what next day the city experienced on a larger scale. It was legitimate inference to connect one with the other. Of course, if our telephone friend was the man who had brought these things about, he had done it to force you to do what he demanded. But he would lose the effect of his lesson unless you understood his connection with the matter. Hence, I concluded that you must have received messages--by wireless--and that they must have repeated the warning as to a 'sign' being sent. It was very simple." "You're smart, all right," conceded McCarthy. After a moment the wireless operator came in. "Simmons," said McCarthy, "answer this man's questions." "They will be in regard to these messages," said Darrow. "Where are they from?" "Somewhere in the one-hundred to two-hundred-mile circles, depending on the power of the sending instrument," replied the operator promptly. "Are you sure?" "I know my instruments pretty well; and I've had experience enough so I can tell by the sound of the sending about how far off they come from." "And this was from somewhere about one to two hundred miles away, you think?" "Yes, sir." "Do you know whether any other instruments caught this?" "No, only mine." He was very positive. "How do you know?" "Mr. McCarthy had me inquire." "How do you account for it?" "I don't know, except that maybe my instrument happened to be just tuned to catch it. That's another reason I know it was from far off. The farther away the sending instrument, the nearer exactly it has to be tuned to the receiving instrument. If it was nearer, 'most anybody'd get it." Percy Darrow nodded. "That's all, I guess. No, hold on. Did any of these come between six and eight last evening?" For the first time the operator smiled. "No, sir; my instrument was dead." He went out. "Well?" growled McCarthy. "I don't know; but I can see more trouble." "Let him turn off his juice," blustered the boss; "we'll be ready, next time." Percy Darrow smiled. "Will you?" he contented himself by saying. Then, after a moment's pause, he added, "I'll agree to stop this fellow if you'll give me an absolutely free hand. I'll even agree to find him." "What do you want?" "I want a job, a good engineering-construction job, for a friend of mine." "What can he do?" "He can learn. I want a good honest place where he can learn under a good man." "Who is he?" "I'll bring him in." A moment later Jack, in answer to a summons, entered the office. McCarthy stared at him. "What kind of a job?" he growled. "Something active and out of doors," Darrow answered for him; "streets, water, engineering."