"To throw us off, Miss Stockbridge. We're dealing with a crafty, cunning mind. This mind took the extreme precaution of connecting two booths at Grand Central so that a man in Sing Sing could talk to your father without leaving a record at the Westchester Exchange or at Gramercy Hill Exchange. How this was done I don't know. It could be done with auxiliary batteries and looping so that the Gramercy Hill operator thought the Westchester call was to a slot booth, while another call from the next booth to this house was really the same connection shunted or looped through. Westlake, vice-president of the telephone company, says that there would be several ways of doing this. He added it would take an expert in telephony." "I'm all twisted up, Mr. Drew. I suppose you understand it. But what about that call to-night--the one that frightened me?" "The man was sure of himself!" said Drew without thinking. "He has his plans made. He figures they will not fail!" "Oh, you mean----" "I mean, Miss Stockbridge, that he expects to slay you in the same manner your father was slain. We have this advantage. You are not alone in this room or these rooms. Your father was alone. The murderer will have Mr. Nichols and myself to deal with this time! Be calm." "But--I don't see how he could--get in here?" "Nor do I. The point is that he got into the library and out again without trace. He had an hour to do his work in. Here, he is running every risk." "But he has already been here, Mr. Drew." The detective glanced keenly at Nichols, who had shot the statement straight through clean white teeth. "I know it," Drew said with a trace of anxiety in his voice. "That is disquieting. But we have searched these rooms and found absolutely no trace of tampering with locks or ventilators or window-catches." "Could he climb up here? He might have climbing irons," added Nichols glancing toward the windows. "A good porch-climber could do it," Drew mused, with his eyes sweeping the curtains. "A very good one could. There are only three or four good ones out of prisons. They never go in for murder." "Wouldn't money buy them?" asked Loris. "Mr. Morphy may have retained one--with some of the gold he stole from poor father." "Retained," repeated Drew, turning with sudden intentness. "Retained, is hardly the word, Miss Loris. Hired, is more to the point. Hired assassins are not uncommon. We have the Becker case and the Hope murder. We have----" Drew allowed his voice to trail to a whisper. "We have," he declared, "our man! There's the front door bell! It's Delaney!" "You have splendid ears, Mr. Drew." "I have to have, Miss Stockbridge. Now," he added sharply, "you and Mr. Nichols go into the library--the writing room. I think the case is closing. There may be a little excitement if Delaney's got that fellow. I, for one, am not going to stand much from him. Please go into the other room. That's right. Stand there, Harry, in case we need a soldier!"