“Everything all right so far,” Garson said rapidly. He turned to Griggs and pointed toward the heavy hangings that shrouded the octagonal window. “Are those the things we want?” he demanded.
“Yes,” was the answer of English Eddie.
“Well, then, we've got to get busy,” Garson went on. His alert, strong face was set in lines of eagerness that had in it something of fierceness now.
But, before he could add a direction, he was halted by a soft buzzing from the telephone, which, though bell-less, still gave this faint warning of a call. For an instant, he hesitated while the others regarded him doubtfully. The situation offered perplexities. To give no attention to the summons might be perilous, and failure to respond might provoke investigation in some urgent matter; to answer it might easily provide a larger danger.
“We've got to take a chance.” Garson spoke his decision curtly. He went to the desk and put the receiver to his ear.
There came again the faint tapping of some one at the other end of the line, signaling a message in the Morse code. An expression of blank amazement, which grew in a flash to deep concern, showed on Garson's face as he listened tensely.
“Why, this is Mary calling,” he muttered.
“Mary!” Griggs cried. His usual vacuity of expression was cast off like a mask and alarm twisted his features. Then, in the next instant, a crafty triumph gleamed from his eyes.
“Yes, she's on,” Garson interpreted, a moment later, as the tapping ceased for a little. He translated in a loud whisper as the irregular ticking noise sounded again.
“I shall be there at the house almost at once. I am sending this message from the drug store around the corner. Have some one open the door for me immediately.”