The Mena weekly star., 1913-10-02
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 Plaza one oner she droned into the trasmitter. Any name, Mr. Standish?"
 "N," he answered huskily. Just the number.
 "A'ri! Here you are-number one booth, please. H'lo New York" she continued into the transmitter, shov- ing plug in and out of the switch board three or four times, Plaza one o-o-one. Yes, Plaza one-o-o- ONE!"
 Standish had gone to the first of tha numbered booths. At Its door ha paused.
 Miss Kelly said he, would you mind taking that receiver off your head while I'm telephoning?"
 Certainly" she answered in evident ill-temper at the slur implied by the request.
 She carefully removed and hung up the metal crescent that held the re- ceiver to her left ear. Standish had closed the booth door and, from the corner of her eye, Wanda could see him through the glass pane, speaking into the transmitter. But she had barely noted the first movement of his lips when Blake and Mark Robertson appeared from the dining-room. She turned her attention to them.
 Blake glanced unobtrusively toward the row of telephone booths and his half-shut eyes lighted ever so little as he made out Standish's figure behind the glass. But he made no other sign that he noted the successful springing of the trap he had so pains takingly set. In fact, he was talking interestedly to Robertson on indiffer ent topics.
 rom tells me- Wanda heard hin say. that Grace is coming down."
 Yes" answered Robertson, his face brigtening at mention of his wife's name, either tonight or tomorrow morning And that reminds me: meant to call her up and ask which. I want to meet her at the station. Miss Kelly" he went on, can you get me New York wire?"
 "Yes. sir" said Wanda; "but it'll take few minutes to get the connec- tion."
 All right" replied Robertson, as she busied herself amid the labyrinth of switchboard plugs, I'll wait here for it. T."
 He stopped as Standish came out of the booth and laid down a bill for Wanda to change. Robertson, the happy light of anticipation dying out of his face at sight of his foe, turned his back ostentatiously upon him. Nor did he speak again till Standish had gone away. Then he looked around, to fiDd his fatherin-law in eager con versation with the telephone operator.
 Well" Blake was saying. Could you hear anything?"
 "No," answered Wanda, still deeply offended at Standish's request. Not a word He made me hang up the re- ceiver."
 "Huh!" grunted Blake Hes got more sense than I thought. But the number? You got the number, of course. Didn't you?"
 "Oh, yes" she returned. q got the number, all right"
 Blake unceremoniously reached over the rail and picked up the pad on which a list of numbers was jotted down.
 ''Is. that the one?" he asked, pointing l.,
 "Oh, mo-" said Wanda, recovering her pad and laying it back in its place on the desk, with a little slam to em. phasize Blake's rudeness in taking it away. That isn't the one. I'm leav' ing the line blank, so can fill in the number later. It's too valuable to put on paper-just yet" You're a born diplomat" he approv- ed. trifie grudgingly, Well, what was the number?" Just a minute" she interrupted. Wasn't there question of-of-7"
 "Of thousand dollars for you. Yes, there was. That goes"
 Does it?" she queried sweetly. Not with me, it doesn't"
 Look here, young woman!" snariod Blake. his habitual calm giving place to a sort of vulpine savagery. Don't you try to hold me upl If you do you'll find you've got wildcat by the tail. '
 Dear mel" she cried in pretty ter TOT. Well, I'll-I'll have to think it over Here's your New York wire, Governor Robertson" she called ts Mark What was the number you wanted, please?" Robertson came across to the rail.
 Get Mrs. Robertson-my wife-o1 the phone,' said he. If she's not in get one of the servants. T." You didn't tell me the number, | she reminded him.
 "Oh," he laughed. Careless of me! I forgot I wasn't talking to my sec retary. He generally calls up my New York home for me. The number is Plaza one-double o-one. There was an imperceptible pause A momentary contraction of Wanda s throat. Then, in her everlasting pro. fessional monotone she droned into the receiver:
 "HTo! New York? Plaza one-o- | o-onain