Garrick was calling from the back room to me, and I excused myself, while the man went back to his post at the front door.  Garrick carefully closed the door into the room.

While I had been busy getting the copies of the faked edition of the Star, which had so alarmed the owner of the garage and had set things moving rapidly, Garrick had also been busy, in another direction.  He had explored not only the raided gambling den, but the little back yard which ran all the way to an extension on the rear of the house in the next street, in which was situated the woman’s poolroom.

He had explored, also, the caved-in tunnel enough to make absolutely certain that his suspicions had been correct in the first place, and that it ran to this other joint, from which the gamblers had made their escape.  That had satisfied him, however, and he had not unearthed the remains of the tunnel or taken any action in the matter yet.  Something else appeared to interest him much more at the present moment.

“I found,” he said when he was sure that we were alone, “that the feed wire of the arc light that burns all the time in that main room over there in the place on Forty-seventh Street—­you recall it?—­runs in through the back of the house.”

He was examining two wires which, from his manner, I inferred were attached to this feed wire, leading to it from the room in which we now were.  What the purpose of the connection was I had no idea.  Perhaps, I thought, it was designed to get new evidence against the place, though I could not guess how it was to be done.  So far, except for what we had seen on our one visit, there had appeared to be no real evidence against the place, except, possibly, that which had died with the unfortunate Rena Taylor.

“What’s that?” I asked, as Garrick produced a package from a closet where he had left it, earlier in the day.

I saw, after he had unwrapped it, that it was a very powerful microphone and a couple of storage cells.  He attached it to the wire leading out to the electric light feed wire.

“I had provided it to be used in an emergency,” he replied.  “I think the time has come sooner than I anticipated.”

I watched him curiously, wondering what it would be that would come next.

There followed a most amazing series of groanings and mutterings from Garrick.  I could not imagine what he was up to.  The whole proceeding seemed so insane that, for the moment, it left me nonplussed and speechless.

Garrick caught the puzzled look on my face.

“What’s the matter?” he laughed heartily, cutting out the microphone momentarily and seeming to enjoy the joke to the utmost.

“Would you prefer to be sent to a State or a private institution?” I rasped, testily.  “What insanity is all this?  It sounds like the fee-faw-fum and mummery of a voodoo man.”