“Not so loud,” Tom cautioned. “Phones sometimes have ears. On Washington between Honore and Hawthorne.”
“I’m going over there at the noon-hour,” said Jimmie. “Got a hunch.”
“Right,” said Tom. “Let me know what you find out.”
The discovery he made in the block on Washington Avenue was startling enough. Hurrying back to the office he begged an hour’s leave of absence. The leave granted, he got Tom on the phone, then raced away to his sky-scraper room.
“Tom! Tom!” he exclaimed quite out of breath from climbing the stairs, “Know what? That tapping is in the same block as that fur storage place.”
“Sure! I knew that!” Tom smiled.
“And a half million dollars worth of fox skins are stored there,” Jimmie breathed.
“What? How do you know that?” Tom was on his feet.
“I’ll tell you,” said Jimmie. He proceeded to tell his story of the Silver Fox King.
“Jimmie, you’re a wonder!” Tom exclaimed.