Tyler’s telephone rang stridently.
He took down the receiver. His mouth fell slackly open as his eyes lifted to Bentley’s face. But he recovered himself and slapped his hand over the transmitter. 35
“Anybody know you came here?” asked Tyler.
Bentley shook his head.
“Well,” went on Tyler, “I don’t know how it happens, but this telephone message is for you!”
Bentley’s heart seemed to jump into his throat. One of those hunches which sometimes were so valuable to him had struck him, as though it were a blow between the eyes. His lips tightened. His face was pale, but there was a grim light in his eyes.
He hesitated for a second, the receiver in his hand, his mouth against the transmitter.
“Well, Professor Barter?” he said conversationally.
There came a gasp from Thomas Tyler. He jumped to the door and motioned to someone. A man in uniform came to his side. Bentley distinctly heard Tyler tell the man to have this telephone call traced.