Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1907-06-15
No one heard what

were not there. No one heard what
was said"
You damned, sneaking black
guard" Numbered Cheney, 1--WE a
mind to thrash the hide oil of you!
Read that" and he threw a type-writ-
ten document on the table in front
of the Irishman. O'Brien did read,
and as the words slipped through his
mind, he began to realize that this
was a report verbatim ad seriatum
of the conversation which took place
between him and DR.. Philip Jensen
the evening before. OF course Jensen
may have had such a good memory
that he could remember every word
that was spoken. But Cheney said
he was a witness, and his word on
the stand in confederation Of a
charge made by DR.. Jensen would be
mighty convincing to jury. But the
Irishman wasn't beaten yet. The
trump card would have to be played.
Cheney saw it.
wait minute, O'Brien. I'm going
to give you the proof now. You're
caught, and you know it; but I'm
going to show you how it was done.
| Just hold this to your ear minute,
handing him a gutta percha phone re-
ceiver, only smaller by half than
those in general use. O'Brien did as
he was told, wondering what was COM
ing. Then Cheney touched a button,
and O'Brien heard a voice say: Good
morning, O'Brien. Expecting any
funds to-day?" 1t was Jensen's voice.
"Confound you'll" said O'Brien. an
grily.
"Just moment, Mr.. O'Brien. DR..
Jensen can't hear you. You see you
only have a receiver, not transmit
ter. DR.. Jensen has one in the other
room. He'll bring it in presently, and
you can see how you were trapped"
O'Brien began to feel clammy. This
mans methods were a bit uncanny.
This telephoning from seemingly no
where wasn't pleasant. The idea was
stealing over him that he was cor
nered. The door opened and in walked
DR.. Jensen, followed by Jimmie FL
lott Dr. Jensen was garbed as usual,
and in his hand he held his silk hat.
IntroductionS were needless, and
Cheney said:
'O'Brien, ever hear of a man talk
ing through his hat? Sure you have.
Well, you didn't exactly do that, but
you did talk through DR.. Jensen's hat.
Look here" and Cheney reached out
and took DR.. Jensen's silk tile and
| ~,
side. Elliott grinned aprovingly as
Cheney went on: you will see a
perfect telephone transmitter con-
cealed in the top of this hat. Now
look at the outside. These four small
air holes are right over the transmit
ter. DR.. Jensen held this hat in
his left hand towards you. You talked
right into it. A very slender copper
wire ran from plate held inside the
doctors hand under his coat sleeve
down his back, out the left trouser
leg and along the floor to the receiver
you just held to your ear. Only it
was double receiver last night. /
held one to my ear and court stem
ographer held the other strapped
around his head so that he could take
down every word of the conversation.
You still look incredulous. The wire?
Oh, yes, the wire was on a reel in my
hands, and I was in the first office
when DR.. Jensen went to yours We
arranged the wire before he went in,
and ] unwound it as he walked away
from me. Oh, was in a closet when
he came in. l arranged all that be-
forehand. The wire was wound with
green silk the color of your carpet,
and anyway the light precluded your
seeing it. Just moment ago you had
demonstration as to how this phone
worked from the outer Office. Jen-
sen was there, and when l rang he
said few words to you. Now, Mr..
| O'Brien, what have you to say?"
O'Brien looked like the thoroughly
beaten man he was. From one to
| the other he gazed. He was trapped,
! fairly and squarely. But the Irish in
him was strong, he wouldn't squeal
There's nothing to say, gentlemen.
Save, perhaps, that the telephone is a
damned clever invention
We'll, DR.. Jensen, it's up to you,
now" drawled Cheney.
Jensen looked hard at O'Brien. Per-
haps a memory of the old days when
they had been boon companions fit
ted before him. He pitied the man.
Get out of this, O'Brien, and try,
for Gods sake, to lead an honest life.
You've got chance now. Take IT,"
OBrien stood not on the order OF
| going, but went. AS he closed the
door he muttered: Great thing, that
| telephone!"
Copyright, by W. G.. Chapmanl
u. S. Doesn't Believe in Signs.
fn Of al 0f h.