He's absolutely sure to come
to the conclusions I have just detailed, only he'll get there a little
more slowly. That's why I want you in on this thing, Hallowell."
"How's that?"
"We'll publish everything up to date and cut the ground from under him."
"What's your special grouch on Eldridge, anyway?" asked Jack.
"I like to worry him," replied Percy Darrow non-committally.
At this moment the darkness disappeared as though some one had turned a
switch. The reporter, the operator and the scientist's young assistant
moved involuntarily as though dodging, and blinked. Darrow shaded his eyes
with one hand and proceeded as though nothing had happened.
"Here are the exclusive points of your story," he said to Hallowell,
handing him a sheaf of yellow wireless forms. "I got them in McCarthy's
office. They are messages from the unknown wielder of the mysterious
power to his enemy, the political boss. There will be plenty who will
conclude these messages to be the result of fanaticism, after the fact;
that is to say, they will conclude some wireless amateur has taken
advantage of natural phenomena and, by claiming himself the author of
them, has attempted to use them against his enemy. Of course, the answer
to that is that if the Unknown--let's call him Monsieur X--did not cause
these strange things, he at least knew enough about them to predict them
accurately."
"You just leave that to me," hummed Hallowell under his breath.
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