Chapter XIX The Buzzing Sound
"Are you Mrs. Damon?" came the question again--rather more impatiently this time, Tom thought.
"Yes," answered the lady, glancing over at Tom. The extension telephone was in the same room. Softly Tom switched on the phonograph attachment. The little wax cylinder began to revolve noiselessly, ready to record the faintest word that came over the wire.
"You got a message from me yesterday," went on the hoarse voice. In vain Tom tried to recall whether or not he had heard it before. He could not place it.
"Who are you?" asked Mrs. Damon. She and Tom had previously agreed on a line of talk. "Tell me your name, please."
"There's no need for any names to be used," went on the unknown at the other end of the wire. "You heard what I said yesterday. Are you willing to send me those land title papers, if we release your husband?"
"But where shall I send them?" asked Mrs. Damon, to gain time.
"You'll be told where. And listen--no tricks! You needn't try to find out who I am, nor where I am. Just send those papers if you want to see your husband again."
"Oh, how is he? Tell me about him! You are cruel to keep him a prisoner like this! I demand that you release him!"