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Klemm. "I will have to have some excuse," ruminated Kennedy. "Tell her I am a specialist in nervous troubles from the city, have been visiting one of the other patients, anything." Dr. Klemm pulled down a switch on a large oblong oak box on his desk, asked for Miss Haversham, and waited a moment. "What is that?" I asked. "A vocaphone," replied Kennedy. "This sanitarium is quite up to date, Klemm."
We were baffled again, and this time by a mysterious masked man. Could it be the same whom we heard over the vocaphone addressed as "Doc"? Perhaps it was, but that gave us no hint as to his identity. He seemed just as far away as ever. We waited around the elevators for some time, but nothing happened.
We could now hear everything that was going on in the library. Craig was wildly excited. As for me, I was speechless. Here was the vocaphone we had installed. It had warned us. But what could we do? I looked blankly at Kennedy. He was equal to the emergency. He calmly turned a switch. Then, at the top of his lungs, he shouted, "Help! Help! Police! They are strangling me!"
Half an hour afterward I walked into the laboratory, feeling a little sheepish over the practical joke, but none the less curious to find out all about it. "What is it?" I asked indicating the apparatus. "A vocaphone," he replied, still laughing, "the loud speaking telephone, the little box that hears and talks.
"I see," remarked Craig, apparently weighing now the man before him. At length he seemed to decide to risk something. "Klemm," he said, "I wish you would do something for me. I see you have the vocaphone here. Now if say Hazleton should call will you listen in on that vocaphone for me?" Dr. Klemm looked squarely at him. "Kennedy," he said, "it's unprofessional, but "
In short, I think we are going to find it to be the reverse of the rule of the French, that it will be a case of 'cherchez l'homme." Early the next day Kennedy, after a night of studying over the case, journeyed up to the sanitarium again. We found Dr. Klemm eager to meet us. "What is it?" asked Kennedy, equally eager. "I overheard some surprising things over the vocaphone," he hastened.
"I'm not going to let anything happen here to Miss Elaine again if I can help it," remarked Craig in a low tone, a moment later, gazing about the library. "What are you thinking of doing?" asked Aunt Josephine keenly. "I'm going to put in a vocaphone," he returned unwrapping it. "What's that?" she asked.
"Hartley," she whispered. "What is it, Mary?" he asked tensely. "We must be careful. Carton MUST be defeated. He must not have the power to use that record." "No," ground out Langhorne. "Wait he shall not. By the way, aren't those orchids gorgeous?" The encore had ceased and over the vocaphone we could hear gaily chatting couples wandering into the conservatory.
He had the greater part of them. They were torn and destroyed, anyway. Finally, with all the venomousness of which he was capable, Clutching Hand rushed at the armor suit, drew back his gloved fist, and let it shoot out squarely in a vicious solar plexus blow. "There take that!" he roared. The suit rattled, furiously. Out of it spilled the vocaphone with a bang on the floor.
"This is my vocaphone the little box that hears and talks," came back to her. "Are you all right?" "Yes all right, thanks to the vocaphone." She had understood in an instant. She seized the helmet and breastplate to which the vocaphone still was attached and was holding them close to herself.
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