He was a man past middle age, and his countenance bore an air of judicial sternness. It was intelligent, yet unyielding.
He pressed an unlettered key at the side of the board and waited. Five minutes passed. Then a low voice filled the room. It sounded like a voice over the radio. Its tones were clear and distinct.
“Faithful,” came the voice.
Skilled hands pressed the keyboard, spelling the word “fifty.”
“B — three,” said the voice.
The hands spelled the word “one.”
“The man in the hospital is not yet identified,” came the voice. “He will be followed when discharged.”
“What — about — Blake—” the words were spelled letter by letter as the hands ran over the keyboard.
“We are watching from a distance. The presence of the night watchman makes it difficult. We have looked for an intruder, but have seen none. We have avoided suspicion as ordered.”
“Instructions—” spelled the hands.