"'I've gone back,'" he read slowly, "'for another try.'"
"Well?" inquired Radwalader pleasantly. "Are you any the wiser?"
"What does it mean?" asked Vicot, looking down at him.
"It means," said Radwalader, "that the game is up."
"Damnation!"
"My good Jules!" protested Radwalader, "pardon the license of an old friend, who begs to suggest that your interruption is in most execrable taste!"
"What are you driving at?" exclaimed Vicot impatiently. "What does it mean, all this palaver? There's something back of it. You can't hoodwink me, Radwalader."
"Far be it from me to attempt the impossible, my astute Jules. Quite justly, you demand what I'm driving at, and, quite frankly, I've told you. The game is up. Mr. Vane has outplayed us. He's managed to get out of this pretty little tangle in a fashion at once ingenious and unexpected. I confess myself beaten. He's gone back to the girl he intends to marry."
Radwalader paused for an instant, as a thought struck him.
"And he would have gone back long ago," he added, "if he had received a certain telegram which was sent to him three weeks ago. If that particular telegram was not intercepted en route, it should have reached him; if that particular telegram was intercepted en route, it should have reached me. Well?"