There were several trunk telephone lines running into the Swift office, so it was a comparatively easy matter for Mr. Newton to go to another instrument to get the information needed. Meanwhile Mr. Swift was holding the other man in conversation. Having started Mr. Newton to ferreting out some information, the aged inventor asked: “How much do you want to return the chest and how can I get in touch with you?” “If you will take fifty thousand dollars in unmarked bills, make a bundle of them and bring them——” But at that moment the criminal either heard something—perhaps the movements of Mr. Newton—or he suspected something, for he sharply broke off what he was saying and cried: “It’s all off! You’re trying to double cross me! Now you’ll never get your chest back!” There was a click which told that the distant receiver was hung up, and then the line went dead. “Wait a minute! Wait just a moment! I want to talk business with you!” cried Mr. Swift, rapidly moving the hook of the receiver up and down. But it was too late. Only silence ensued until finally the operator, attracted by the flashing light which resulted when Mr. Swift moved the hook, asked: “Number, please?” “I was talking to some one, but I was cut off,” said the inventor. “Can you get them back for me? It’s important.” “What number were you talking to?” the girl asked. “That’s just what I want to know,” said Tom’s father. “I’m sorry, but if you don’t know the number I can’t ring it for you.” Mr. Swift knew only too well that this was the case. It was not the girl’s fault—it was the fault of the system, and not so much the fault as the limitation. “If I had only had Tom’s photo-telephone attachment hitched on here I could have seen who it was I was talking with,” lamented Mr. Swift. “How about it, Mr. Newton, did you succeed in getting any information?” he asked, as the latter came away from the second instrument. “The manager said he would try to trace the call for you,” was the reply. “But I didn’t have much time. Whoever it was got suspicious too quickly.” “Yes,” agreed the inventor. “He must have heard me giving you the paper and he jumped to the conclusion that there was a second person in the room. Well, we’ll have to wait and see what they can do for us in the central telephone office. I wish Tom were here!” “I suppose he and Ned are on the trail of the robbers,” remarked Mr. Newton. “Yes, but this would be a good clew for them. However, it’s too late now. It shows, though, that our chest is still safe. They probably realize that they cannot make as much use of our plans, designs and patents as they thought at first.”