“See here,” he said, “I’ll give you ten dollars to send the message.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s against the rules.”
“Jackson, do it yourself,” spoke the other man quickly, pressing close to his companion’s side.
“I’m out of practice.”
“Oh, you can manage it.”
“Hold on, there. I can’t allow any interference with the apparatus here,” said Tom, stepping in front of the first man as he started over towards the operating table.
“Can’t, eh?” sneered the man. “Well, you’ll have to. Keep him quiet, Griffin.”
“I’ve got him,” announced the man addressed.
He had caught Tom by the wrist. As the latter struggled to free himself, his captor dragged him toward a closet in one corner of the room.
Its door stood open. The closet was oak framed, built into the wall of the room, and had a stout door with a small circular slit in it. Mr. Edson had utilized it to lock up things he did not wish to leave lying around loose, when he left the tower at night. Tom had used it as a storeroom for surplus parts of the wireless outfit.