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Updated: June 10, 2025
It lasted so long that Rumson exclaimed sharply: "Hello," he called. "Do you want to speak to me, or do you want to speak to me?" "I've gotta letter for the district attorney," said the voice. "I'm to give it to nobody but him. It's about Banf. He must get it quick, or it'll be too late." "Who are you?" demanded Rumson. "Where are you speaking from?"
"When you see this in the road," explained Rumson, "you'll know we're on the job. And after you're inside, if you need us, you've only to go to a rear window and wave." "If they mean to do him up," growled Bissell, "he won't get to a rear window." "He can always tell them we're outside," said Rumson "and they are extremely likely to believe him. Do you want a gun?" "No," said the D. A.
Rumson exclaimed incredulously: "You got to go!" "It looks to me," objected Bissell, "like a plot to get you there alone and rap you on the head." "Not with that note inviting him there," protested Hewitt, "and signed by Earle herself." "You don't know she signed it?" objected the senator. "I know her," returned the detective. "I know she's no fool.
"Better have mine," urged Hewitt. "I have my own," explained the D. A. Rumson and Hewitt set off in taxi-cabs and, a half-hour later, Wharton followed. As he sank back against the cushions of the big touring-car he felt a pleasing thrill of excitement, and as he passed the traffic police, and they saluted mechanically, he smiled.
"When you see this in the road," explained Rumson, "you'll know we're on the job. And after you're inside, if you need us, you've only to go to a rear window and wave." "If they mean to do him up," growled Bissell, "he won't get to a rear window." "He can always tell them we're outside," said Rumson "and they are extremely likely to believe him. Do you want a gun?" "No," said the D.A.
The man at the other end of the wire ignored the questions. "Where'll Wharton be for the next twenty minutes?" "If I tell you," parried Rumson, "will you bring the letter at once?" The voice exclaimed indignantly: "Bring nothing! I'll send it by district messenger. You're wasting time trying to reach me. It's the LETTER you want.
This was the situation a month before election day when, to oblige his brother-in-law, Wharton was up-town at Delmonico's lunching with Senator Bissell. Down-town at the office, Rumson, the assistant district attorney, was on his way to lunch when the telephone-girl halted him. Her voice was lowered and betrayed almost human interest.
Rumson exclaimed incredulously: "You got to go!" "It looks to me," objected Bissell, "like a plot to get you there alone and rap you on the head." "Not with that note inviting him there," protested Hewitt, "and signed by Earle herself." "You don't know she signed it?" objected the senator. "I know her," returned the detective. "I know she's no fool.
Work around to the back of the house. Stand where I can see you from the window. I may want you to carry a message to Mr. Rumson." On foot Wharton walked up the curved drive-way, and if from the house his approach was spied upon, there was no evidence. In the second story the blinds were drawn and on the first floor the verandas were empty.
To summon Rumson, to keep in touch with Nolan, he need only step to one of these windows and beckon. The strategic position of the room appealed, and with a bow of the head he passed in front of his hostess and entered it. He continued to take note of his surroundings. He now saw that from the office in which he stood doors led to rooms adjoining.
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