Then he closed the window softly and pulled down the switch on the
other detectaphone connected with the fake telephone receiver.
He smiled quietly at me. The thing worked still. We had one
connection left with the garage, anyway.
There was a noise of something being shattered to bits. It was the
black disc back of the pile of tires. We could hear the Boss
muttering to himself.
"Say," he reported back over the telephone, "I've smashed the
thing, all right, and cut the wires, too. They ran out of the back
window to that mercantile warehouse, down the street, I think.
I'll look after that in the morning. It's so dark over there now I
can't see a thing."
"Good!" exclaimed the other voice with satisfaction. "Now we can
talk. That fellow Garrick isn't such a wise guy, after all. I tell
you, Boss, I'm going to throw a good scare into them this time--
one that will stick."
"What is it?"
"Well, I got Warrington, didn't I?"
"Yes."
"You know I can't always be following that fellow, Garrick.
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