Hour by hour dragged endlessly as the night wore on. Dixie sat by the telegraph key, waiting. Call after call sent through Buffalo brought back the answer:
"Wire not clear yet. Working on it."
The moon dimmed, and the chill air of night made her huddle closer in the chair and shiver. Would the night never end and the call she was waiting for come?
As the dawn lightened the dingy interior of the station it showed Dixie Mason with tumbled, towsled head fallen sleepily on one shoulder.
The staccato clicking of the telegraph sounder broke into the quiet of the room. It started Dixie from her sleep. For one bewildered moment she glanced at the instrument before her and then on the alert reached for the key to answer the call that was coming through for Exeter.
"O.K. Ex." She waited tensely for the answer.
Suddenly a shadow fell across the doorway and Dixie started violently. "Here you! What're you doing at that telegraph instrument?" The rough voice of the station agent sent a chill of fear through her. "You don't know nothing about them things. Get out of here!"
He pushed her roughly aside and seated himself at the table to take the message that in spite of nervousness and sudden fright seemed to burn itself into her brain. It was for Heinric von Lertz!
"Proceed at once!"
"F.V.P."
Von Papen! Dixie clutched at the station agent's arm as he started for the door with the message.