A thought struck him. He sat up to examine the cushion suspiciously. It appeared to be an equivalent to foam rubber. He prodded and twisted until convinced that no wires or other unexpected objects were concealed inside. Not till then did he resume his relaxed position.
Presently one of his hands located and pinched a tiny switch buried in the lobe of his left ear. Barnsley concentrated upon keeping his features blank as a rushing sound seemed to grow in his ear. He yawned casually, moving one hand from behind his head to cover his mouth.
Having practiced many times before a mirror, he did not think that any possible watcher would have noticed how his thumb slipped briefly inside his mouth to give one eyetooth a slight twist.
A strong humming inundated his hearing. It continued for perhaps two minutes, paused, and began again. Barnsley waited through two repetitions before he “yawned” again and sleepily rolled over to hide his face in his folded arms.
“Did you get it all?” he murmured.
“Clear as a bell,” replied a tiny voice in his left ear. “Was that your whole day's recording?”
“I guess so,” said Barnsley. “To tell the truth, I lose track a bit after two weeks without a watch. Who's this? Sanchez?”
“That's right. You seem to come in on my watch pretty nearly every twenty-four hours. Okay, I'll tape a slowed-down version of your blast for the boys in the back room. You're doing fine.”
“Not for much longer,” Barnsley told him. “When do I get out of here?”