The Voice on the Wire | Page 6

over the mouthpiece.
"Ask him to say it again--that you didn't understand." Shirley removed
his hand, and obeyed. Shirley held the receiver to his ear, as the young
man spoke. Then he heard these curious words: "You poor simp, you'd
better get that family doctor of yours to give you some ear medicine,
and stop wasting time with the death certificate. I told you that Cronin
was over in Bellevue Hospital with a fractured skull. Unless you drop
this investigating, you'll get one, too. Ta, ta! Old top!"
The receiver was hung up quickly at the other end of the line.
Shirley gave a quick call for "Information," and after several minutes
learned that the call came from a drug store pay-station in Jersey City!
The melodious tones were unmistakably those of the speaker who had
used the wire from faraway Brooklyn where the house had been burned
down! It was a human impossibility for any one to have covered the
distance between the two points in this brief time, except in an
aeroplane!
Van Cleft wondered dumbly at his companion's excitement. Shirley
caught up the telephone again.
"Some one says that Cronin is at Bellevue Hospital, injured. I'll find
out."

It was true. Captain Cronin was lying at point of death, the ward nurse
said, in answer to his eager query. At first the ambulance surgeon had
supposed him to be drunk, for a patrolman had pulled him out of a dark
doorway, unconscious.
"Where was the doorway? This is his son speaking, so tell me all."
"Just a minute. Oh! Here is the report slip. He was taken from the
corner of Avenue A and East Eleventh Street. You'd better come down
right away, for he is apt to die tonight. He's only been here ten
minutes."
"Has any one else telephoned to find out about him?"
"No. We didn't even know his name until just as you called up, when
we found his papers and some warrants in a pocketbook. How did you
know?"
But Shirley disconnected curtly, this time. He bowed his head in
thought, and then, with his usual nervous custom, fumbled for a
cigarette. Here was the Captain, whom he had left on Forty-fourth
Street, near Fifth Avenue, a short time before, discovered fully three
miles away.
And the news telephoned from Jersey City, by the fleeting magic voice
on the wire. Even his iron composure was stirred by this weird
complication.
"I wonder!" he murmured. He had ample reason to wonder.

CHAPTER III
THE INNOCENT BYSTANDER
"Well, Mr. Shirley, your coming here was a Godsend! I don't know
what to do now. The newspapers will get this surely. I depended on
Cronin: he must have been drinking."

Shirley shook his head, as he explained, "I know Cronin's reputation,
for I was a police reporter. He is a sterling man. There's foul work here
which extends beyond your father's case. But we are wasting time.
Why don't you introduce me to your physician? Just tell him about
Cronin, and that you have confided in me completely."
Van Cleft went upstairs without a word. Unused to any worry, always
able to pay others for the execution of necessary details, this young
man was a victim of the system which had engulfed his unfortunate sire
in the maelstrom of reckless pleasure.
By his ingenuous adroitness, it may be seen, Shirley was inveigling
himself into the heart of the affair, in his favorite disguise as that of the
"innocent bystander." His innate dramatic ability assisted him in
maintaining his friendly and almost impersonal role, with a success
which had in the past kept the secret of his system from even the
evildoers themselves.
"A little investigation of the telephone exchanges during the next day
or two will not be wasted time," he mused. "I'll get Sam Grindle, their
assistant advertising manager to show me the way the wheels go 'round.
No man can ride a Magic Carpet of Bagdad over the skyscrapers in
these days of shattered folklore."
Howard Van Cleft returned with the famous surgeon, Professor
MacDonald. He was elderly, with the broad high forehead, dignity of
poise, and sharpness of glance which bespeaks the successful scientist.
His face, to-night, was chalky and the firm, full mouth twitched with
nervousness. He greeted Shirley abstractedly The criminologist's
manner was that of friendly anxiety.
You are here, sir, as a friend of the family?"
"Yes. Howard has told me of the terrible mystery of this case. As an
ex-newspaper man I imagine that my influence and friendships may
keep the unpleasant details from the press."
"That is good," sighed the doctor, with relief. "How soon will you do

it?"
"Now, using this telephone. No, for certain reasons, I had better use an
outside instrument. I will call up men I