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Reeve, Arthur B. (Arthur Benjamin), 1880-1936

"Guy Garrick"

Tell him he must not
run that elevator up until we get there. No one must leave or
enter the building. Tell him to lock the front door and conceal
himself in the door that leads down to the cellar. I will ring the
night bell five times to let him know when to let us in."
I was telephoning excitedly Garrick's instructions and as he
waited for me to finish he was taking a last turn at the optophone
before we made our dash on Warrington's.
A suppressed exclamation escaped him. I turned toward him quickly
from the telephone and hung up the receiver.
"What's the matter?" I asked anxiously.
For a moment he did not reply, but seemed to be listening with an
intensity that I knew betokened something unexpected.
"Tom," he cried abruptly, stripping the receiver from his head
with a jerk and clapping it over my own ears, "quick!--tell me
what you hear. What does it sound like to you? What is it? I can't
be mistaken."
I listened feverishly. Not having had a former acquaintance with
the machine, I did not know just what to make of it.


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