care to identify himself to the man there. That ’s why he goes out to send his messages.”
“Suppose he does n’t let the kid into the room at all.”
“Well, he opens the door. The boy gives him the telegram and asks ‘Any answer’? He reads it and sees it ’s the same message that he had last night. That ’ll make him forget the boy. He ’ll be trying to figure out what has happened. And the boy can stand at the door and watch him. It ’s worth trying anyway. Go and get the telegram ready, Jim.”
“What is it, again?”
“ ‘Thunder command wind kacaderm.’ Unsigned.”
“ ‘Thunder—command—wind—kacaderm.’ ”
“Have you the envelopes?”
“Yep. Billy has everything in there.”
“Don’t seal it till I ’ve looked it over.”
“All right. Chief.”
The operative—whose name was Corcoran—departed with the unbustling celerity of a man accustomed to quick and noiseless
