“Go ahead, here’s Captain Cronin!”

A pleasant voice came over the wire.  It was musical and sincere.

“Hello, Captain Cronin, is that you?”

“Yes!  What do you want?”

The voice continued, with a jolly laugh, ringing and infectious in its merriment.

“Well, Captain, the joke’s on you.  Ha, ha, ha!  It’s a bully one!  Ho, ho!  Ha, ha!”

“What joke?”

“You’re working on the Van Cleft case.  Oh, sure, you are, don’t kid me back.  Well, Captain, you’ve missed two other perfectly good grafts.  This is the third one!”

There was a click and the speaker, with another merry gurgle, rang off.

“Quick, manager’s desk,” cried Shirley, jiggling the metal key.  “What call was that?  Where did it come from?”

After a little wait, a languid voice answered:  “Brooklyn, Main 6969, Party C.”

“Give me the number again—­I want to speak on the wire.”

After another delay, the voice replied “The line has been discontinued.”

“I just had it!  What is the name of the subscriber.  Hurry, this is a matter of life and death.”

“It’s against the rules to give any further information.  But our record shows that the house burned down about two weeks ago.  No one else has been given the number.  There’s no instrument there!”

CHAPTER II

THE FLEETING PROMPTER

Monty’s puzzled smile was in no wise reciprocated by the Captain, whose red face evidenced a growing resentment.

He began a tirade, but a wink from the club man warned him.  Shirley replaced the receiver, and the regular attendant resumed his place at the switchboard.  The lad was curious at the unusual ability of the wealthy Mr. Shirley to handle the bewildering maze of telephone attachments.  Monty explained, as he turned to go upstairs.

“Son, that was one of my smart friends trying to play a practical joke on my guest.  I fooled him.  Don’t let it happen again, until you send in the party’s name first.”

“Yes, sir,” meekly promised the boy.

“Well, Captain Cronin, as the old paperback novels used to say at the end of the first instalment, ‘The Plot thickens!’ At first I thought this case of stupid badger game—­”

“You aren’t going to back out, Monty?  Here’s a whole gang of crooks which would give you some sport rounding up, and as for money—­”

“Money is easy, from both sides of a criminal matter.  What interests me is that ghostly telephone call from a house that burned down, and the caller’s knowledge of Number Three.  I’m in this case, have no fear of that.”

Shirley led his guest to the coat room.

“I’ll get a taxicab, Monty.  We’d better see that girl first and then have a look at the body.”

The Captain turned to the door, as the attendant helped Monty with his overcoat.  The waiter from the grill-room approached.  “Excuse me, sir, but the gentleman dropped his handkerchief in his chair opposite you.”