Murdock’s heavy brows knit like frowning battlements over his threatening eyes. He drew forward in his chair, searching Chick’s face more intently.
“How did you learn of that?” he cried, while Bart Bailey looked as if he had been hit with a club.
“I have methods of my own, Murdock, for getting such information,” Chick replied. “For obvious reasons, however, I do not reveal them to crooks.”
“But how could you interpret a code message even if you saw the telegram?”
“Easily.”
“Impossible, unless——” Murdock turned sharply to Bart Bailey. “Has that code book been out of your hands?”
“Not on your life,” cried Bart emphatically. “This is all a bluff. He’s got you on a string. He don’t know half of what he asserts.”
“Don’t I?” questioned Chick, glancing at him again. “I know that you were directed to look out for me, Bailey, and to lure me to New York, if possible, and to a place designated in your code book as the cobweb. This, of course, is the place.”
Murdock uttered an oath, evidently staggered and more alarmed by what he had learned.
“Bolton,” he cried harshly, turning to the man with a mallet, “search this infernal meddler. I’ll find out whether he’s an infernal mind reader, or has a copy of our code in his possession.”