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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Such letters have been coming to Mr. Brixton, I understand, every day." The letter was in a cramped foreign scrawl: JOHN BRIXTON, Woodrock, New York. American dollars must not endanger the peace of Europe. Be warned in time. In the name of liberty and progress we have raised the standard of conflict without truce or quarter against reaction.
However, I felt that if there was indeed some subtle, underground connection between some one inside and someone outside Brixton's house, Craig would prepare an equally subtle method of meeting it on his own account. Very little was said by either of us on the journey up to the laboratory, or on the return to Woodrock.
Even to her, the only message he would entrust was that he wanted to see me immediately." At Woodrock we took our time in getting off the train. Miss Brixton, a tall, dark-haired, athletic girl just out of college, had preceded us, and as her own car shot out from the station platform we leisurely walked down and entered another bearing the number she had given Kennedy.
"Woodrock," he replied quickly, taking my arm and dragging me down a ramp to the train that was just leaving for that fashionable suburb. "Well," I queried eagerly, as the train started. "Why all this secrecy?" "I had a caller this afternoon," he began, running his eye over the other passengers to see if we were observed. "She is going back on this train.
In fact, as I recall it, one of the foreign bankers who is trying to interest him is that Count Wachtmann who, everybody says, is engaged to Miss Brixton, and is staying at the house at Woodrock. Craig, are you sure nobody is hoaxing you?" "Read that," he replied laconically, handing me a piece of thin letter-paper such as is often used for foreign correspondence.
Regardless of whether Janeff was listening or not, Kennedy was eagerly telephoning to the Woodrock central down in the village. He was using the transmitter and receiver that were connected with the iron tube which he had connected to the two regular house lines. "Have the ferry held at any cost," he was ordering. "Don't let the next boat go out until Mr.
About the middle of the afternoon he reappeared. As far as I could learn all that he had found out was that the famous, or rather infamous, Professor Michael Kumanova, one of the leaders of the Red Brotherhood, was known to be somewhere in this country. We lost no time in returning again to Woodrock late that afternoon.
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