Kennedy had scarcely laid down the message from Burke when the telephone tinkled again. He seized the receiver expectantly. By his excitement I could see that it was Riley again.
“Yes, Riley,” we heard him answer. “Where are you now?”
The conversation was rapid-fire. As Kennedy hung up his face showed considerable interest.
“That woman is just making sport of Riley,” exclaimed Kennedy, hotly, facing us in perplexity.
“Why, what is she doing?”
“Seems to be aimlessly driving about the city. I’ll bet she is just laughing at him. I wonder what the game may be?”
“Where is she now?”
“Up-town again. I suppose that we could jump up there and probably catch Riley somewhere, by keeping in touch with this office, if both of us kept calling up here. But what good it would do I can’t see. I’m disappointed. This thing has degenerated into a wild-goose chase.”
His eye fell on the telegram from Burke, and I knew that the two things had placed Kennedy in a dilemma. If he might have been in two places at once, he would have been satisfied. Should he drop everything and go to Burke or should he wait for Riley?
“We’ll let the cipher decide,” concluded Kennedy, turning to the scribbled papers before him.