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Updated: June 1, 2025
It was, of course, the Continental, and not the Morse, code, and it was not quite the same as stooping over and listening to the crisp, incisive pulsations of a "sounder." But Frank heard and saw and pieced together enough of the message to clutch, in turn, at Durkin's arm, and wait with quickened breath for the answering spark-play. "No such persons on board send fuller description."
If Durkin's the man you think he is, and I hope he is, he'll be tryin' to nose his way into this place before midnight tonight!" "And he will," cried Frank, exultantly, "and with the whole precinct police force behind him!" "He daren't!" retorted MacNutt. "He daren't get within a hundred yards of the Central Office, and he daren't show his nose inside a precinct station-house!
"Ssssh!" said the woman under her breath, as she clutched Durkin's arm. He shook her hand off, impatiently, although the act seemed at cross-purposes with his own will. "But you here!" he still gasped. "Oh, Jim!" she half-moaned, inadequately. Yet an aura of calmness seemed to surround her.
In such manner was the plot to avenge Penny Durkin's wrongs hatched. Two days later Harmon Dreer, looking for mail in Main Hall, came across a notice from the post office apprising him that there was a registered parcel there which would be delivered to him on presentation of this notice and satisfactory identification.
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