you willing to send me those land title papers, if we release your husband?"
"But where shall I send them?" asked Mrs. Damon, to gain time.
"You'll be told where. And listen—no tricks! You needn't try to find out who I am, nor where I am. Just send those papers if you want to see your husband again."
"Oh, how is he? Tell me about him! You are cruel to keep him a prisoner like this! I demand that you release him!"
Tom had not told Mrs. Damon to say this. It came out of her own heart—she could not prevent the agonized outburst.
"Never mind about that, now," came the gruff voice over the wire. "Are you willing to send the papers?"
Mrs. Damon looked over to Tom for silent instructions. He nodded his head in assent.
"Yes, I—I will send them if you tell me where to get them to you—if you will release Mr. Damon," said the anxious wife. "But tell me who you are and where you are!" she begged.
"None of that! I'm not looking to be arrested. You get the papers ready, and I'll let you know to-morrow, about this time, where to send them."
"Wait a minute!" called Mrs. Damon, to
