"And here is a suggestion, Morgan. When either of us calls on the other, the signal will be three knocks on the door instead of pushing the electric bell. I have a suspicion that answering a bell these days will have to be conducted with caution."
"Perhaps you are right," said Morgan. "I'll remember."
Morgan then walked on up La Salle Street, while Marsh crossed over and entered the hotel once more. There was now only one person who might give him a really definite lead—the night telephone operator—and he went straight to her switchboard. Marsh knew that this young woman was probably overfed with smooth talk, so he counted upon getting better results by going straight to the point.
"Good evening," he said. "You are the night operator here, are you not?"
The young woman, who was arranging things before her in a way that indicated she had but recently come on duty, replied in the affirmative.
"Do you remember Mr. Merton, who has been reported missing?" asked Marsh.
"I should say I do," exclaimed the girl. "An awfully nice man. He appreciated good service. Every Saturday night he gave me a box of candy."
"Read this," said Marsh, handing her his authorization from Hunt.
"Oh, I hope you do find out something," said the girl, as she returned the paper to Marsh. "I'd just hate to think anything serious had happened to Mr. Merton."
"All right," answered Marsh, "then you'll be willing to help me?"