And, if either of them had called the other just then, they would have probably crossed wires.

Of such stuff are the quarrels of lovers.

Craig’s eye fell on the telegraphone, and an idea seemed to occur to him.

“Walter, you and Chase bring that thing along,” he said a moment later.

He paused long enough to take a badge from the drawer of a cabinet, and went out.  We followed him, lugging the telegraphone.

At last we came to the apartment house at which Chase had located the woman.

“There it is,” he pointed out, as I gave a groan of relief, for the telegraphone was getting like lead.

Kennedy nodded and drew from his pocket the badge I had seen him take from the cabinet.

“Now, Chase,” he directed, “you needn’t go in with us.  Walter and I can manage this, now.  But don’t get out of touch with me.  I shall need you any moment—­certainly tomorrow.”

I saw that the badge read, Telephone Inspector.

“Walter,” he smiled, “you’re elected my helper.”

We entered the apartment house hall and found a Negro boy in charge of the switchboard.  It took Craig only a moment to convince the boy that he was from the company and that complaints had been made by some anonymous tenant.

“You look over that switchboard, Kelly,” he winked at me, “while I test out the connections back here.  There must be something wrong with the wires or there wouldn’t be so many complaints.”

He had gone back of the switchboard and the Negro, still unsuspicious, watched without understanding what it was all about.

“I don’t know,” Craig muttered finally for the benefit of the boy, “but I think I’ll have to leave that tester after all.  Say, if I put it here, you’ll have to be careful not to let anyone meddle with it.  If you do, there’ll be the deuce to pay.  See?”

Kennedy had already started to fasten the telegraphone to the wires he had selected from the tangle.

At last he finished and stood up.

“Don’t disturb it and don’t let anyone else touch it,” he ordered.  “Better not tell anyone—­that’s the best way.  I’ll be back for it tomorrow probably.”

“Yas sah,” nodded the boy, with a bow, as we went out.

We returned to the laboratory, where there seemed to be nothing we could do now except wait for something to happen.

Kennedy, however, employed the time by plunging into work, most of the time experimenting with a peculiar little coil to which ran the wires of an ordinary electric bell.

Back in the new hang-out, the Clutching Hand was laying down the law to his lieutenants and heelers, when Spike at last entered.

“Huh!” growled the master criminal, covering the fact that he was considerably relieved to see him at last, “where have you been?  I’ve been off on a little job myself and got back.”

Spike apologized profusely.  He had succeeded so easily that he had thought to take a little time to meet up with an old pal whom he ran across, just out of prison.