"We might manage to seize and make a hostage of Lute Brown--and even
the telegraph operator," began Halloway, somewhat haltingly. "But
their disappearance would prove a sort of warning and they may not be
the leading spirits. Did you gather from that telegram where they mean
to hold her up?"
"No--nor even to whom the message went. He'd begun sending when I got
in."
"Of course we couldn't prove that the operator understood the portent
of the message but I know the fellow--his name is Wicks, and I think
he's a bad egg."
"Where does the bank cashier live?" inquired Brent.
"Three miles out along Deephole Branch--and he has no telephone,"
growled the Titan. Suddenly through the baffled perplexity of his eyes
broke the light of dawning idea, and he spoke with a greater certitude.
"If these high-binders have used the wire once they may do it again,"
he exclaimed. "At all events that's the point to watch at present."
"I suppose you mean I must loaf around there and eavesdrop--for
anything that may come over." Brent's tone was unenthusiastic.
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