“I’ve got the papers all right. The forgetful old dotard left them in his study, and my wife heard him and the boy talking about them. I’ve got ’em all right, and he’ll never remember anything about them. I guess they ought to be worth something, eh?” “Yes, indeed,” Mr. Cutler replied. “The estate is a big one, and there’s no reason why you and I shouldn’t have a share. I guess we can work it without any one knowing anything about it. I’ll call you up in a few days Mr.----” “No names!” cautioned the other quickly. “All right,” answered Mr. Cutler with a laugh. “I understand. Good-by.” Tom knew that the conversation was finished, and that he could give the waiting lady the junior partner on the wire. But he hesitated a moment before pulling out the plugs, and readjusting them. “I’ve heard that man’s voice before,” he mused. “I know it well. Who can it be?” Then there came over the wire the voice of the man in question. It seemed that he had forgotten something, though Mr. Cutler was busy talking to the lady. “Hello! Hello!” he called. “I say! I forgot something. Wait a moment, Mr. Cutler!” “Mr. Cutler is busy on another wire,” replied Tom. “If you wait I can get him back for you?” “Who is this speaking?” asked the man’s voice, and there seemed to be a note of fear in it. “This is the private exchange operator.” “I know that, but who are you? What’s your name?” “Tom Baldwin. Do you wish me to get Mr. Cutler on the wire for you?” [Illustration: “No!” came the sudden answer. _Page 110._] “No!” came the sudden answer, and the man hung up his receiver with a bang that made a loud click in Tom’s ear. Then, like a flash there came to our hero the recognition of the voice. “That was Barton Sandow speaking!” he exclaimed softly. “I’m pretty sure it was, and I believe he was talking about that Spidderkins estate and those papers I took to the doctor!” CHAPTER XIV SANDOW IS ALARMED Tom hardly knew what to do. As he finished his work that afternoon, and started toward home, he had half a mind to go and tell Dr. Spidderkins what he had heard. Then he reflected that he could say nothing definite, and that, after all, the mysterious message might be a perfectly proper one. It might refer to some other person than the eccentric doctor. “But one thing I’m pretty certain of,” thought Tom, “and that is the voice I heard was that of Barton Sandow. Maybe I had better speak to Mr. Boise about it. No, if I do that I’ll have to say Sandow was talking to Mr. Cutler, and Mr. Boise will consult with him. Mr. Cutler will accuse me of listening, when I really couldn’t help it, and I’ll lose my place. “No, I can’t do that. I wish I knew some one I might consult with. Perhaps Mr. Keen would be a good man. He seems kind, and I could ask him to say nothing about it to Mr. Cutler. I’ll think that over.” Which Tom did, after he got to bed that night, but in the morning he was as unsettled as ever.