Mile by mile
the special train drew nearer until, by catching the prearranged signal,
it determined just how far the new sending reached. Then Simmons tried
Monsieur X. As the latter invariably answered, it was, of course, evident
that he remained still in the narrowing zone of communication. It was
fascinating work, like the drawing of a huge invisible net.
The reporters on the morning papers mastered only with difficulty their
inclination to stay. They had to leave before their papers went to press,
but were back again in an hour, unwilling to lose a moment of the game. A
tension vibrated the little office. Only Percy Darrow dozed alone in the
corner, leaning back in his wooden armchair.
At near four o'clock in the morning Simmons raised his head after a long
bout of calling to announce that he could get no reply from Monsieur X.
"He's got tired of your fool messages," remarked the _Register_ man. "And
I don't wonder! Guess he's gone to bed."
Eldridge said nothing, but replaced the Leyden jar he had but just
removed.
"Try one," said he.
"I get him," reported Simmons, after a moment.
"Send him anything plausible and reassuring," commanded Eldridge hastily.
He turned to his small and attentive audience in triumph. "Thus,
gentlemen," he announced, "we have proven conclusively that our man is
located between forty and fifty miles from New York. If we draw two
circles, with this building as center, the circumference of one of which
is fifty, the other forty miles away, we define the territory within which
the malefactor in question is to be found.
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