Somehow the manner of this well-meaning gentleman did not inspire Jack with overmuch confidence as to his perspicacity. Moreover, since his man and his evidence were both gone, he saw nothing to be gained by consulting the police. "I'm not quite ready to do that," he said good-naturedly. "Sorry to have troubled you for nothing." The two detectives exchanged a look of scorn. "These amateurs think they know it all!" it said. Only the fact that they knew Jack was a great man's secretary, and therefore a person to be propitiated, restrained them from audible comment. However, when they found that Jack was disposed to reward them liberally, they changed their opinion of him. Ten dollar bills are wonderful sweeteners. "How about me?" asked Tommy anxiously. "Back to the mines," said Jack. "In other words, 1118 Broadway." Tommy's face fell piteously. "Mind you," said Jack quickly. "I'm not blaming you for our failure. You did wonderful work. I'll send for you when the trail gets hot again." He likewise presented Tommy with a green testimonial of his appreciation. Before any of them got out of the room the telephone bell most surprisingly rang. They all stopped and stared at the instrument as if they expected an apparition to issue from the mouthpiece. "Wait!" said Jack. "Perhaps there's something here." He took down the receiver. "Hello," he said ingratiatingly. The reply came in a tone no less dulcet: "How do you do, Mr. Robinson." Jack almost dropped the receiver. "Why--what--who--" he stammered. He heard a light laugh on the wire. "You are surprised. But I was sure I would find you there." "Who is this?" asked Jack sparring for time--he knew very well. "Need you ask?" replied the mocking voice. "This is the owner of the desk at which you are now seated." Jack said to himself, "Mustn't let him think he's putting it over you!" He answered in the same mocking tone. "How do you do. So glad you called me up." Clapping a hand over the transmitter, he whispered swiftly to the leading detective: "This is the man. Trace the call back. If he's anywhere near, get him. I'll keep him talking." The detective took a note of the number on the transmitter, and ran out followed by Tommy. Meanwhile the voice on the wire was saying: "Sorry I was out when you called." "Very glad to wait until you can get back," said Jack. "That's nice of you. But I'm mighty sorry, I've been called out of town." As on a former occasion Jack's recollection was vaguely stirred by something familiar in the man's voice. He supposed that this was the man who had appeared as Comrade Wilde the night before, but as Wilde had not spoken aloud within Jack's hearing, it must have been on some other occasion he had heard this voice. But he could not place it. When the exchange of ironical civilities began to pall, Jack asked politely: "What can I do for you, Mr. B.?" "I just wanted a little chat with you. I wanted to congratulate you on your game."