New Britain herald., 1918-03-25

upon the next express or sooner l did not know. I would hardly dare to stay in the waiting room after the next Marvin train, after my explanation 70 the inquisitive guard.
 "Quicl>-Into the Booth!'
 It seemed interminable hourse that I put in going over the problem while my fingers were knitting two, purling two, but alas making a hopeless bundle of the counting. When at last my purgatory ended with the entrance into the waiting room of MT. Drake, looking as cool and unhurried as if he were out for a moonlight stroll, my trembling fingers were powerless to hold the knitting and the ball, needles and helmet fell to the floor a hopelSsly tangled mass, as l rose.
 MT. Drake bent and gathered up the knitting deliberately. But to my sur prise, as he did so. I heard his voice ] in 8 tense whisper:
 Quick. Get into the telephone booth and pretend to be telephoning. { Take everything with you" His words were like an electriic battery galvanizing me into action Snatching the knitting from his out stretched hand I crammed it into Katherine's knitting bag, and with it and my own travelling bag in my hands fairly sprang into the telephone booth. MT. Drake must have closed the ! door behind me. As I heard it shut I turned to the telephone after de- posting my bags upon the floor, took down the receiver and with the other hand held the transmitter down so that central should see no flash of that number on her distant switch board.
 Whose Is That Voice? Then I ventured to turn my eyes toward the glass upper half of the telephone booth door. To my sur prise it was blocked by MT. Drakc's stalwart shoulders. No one from the outside could have discovered my identity so effectually did he conceal 1 me. Indeed, I imagine that to the 1 casual glance the telephone booth ap- l peared to be empty.
 l l discovered something else, also. | After MT. Drake had closed the door he must have pushed it open again ever so slightly. At any rate, though , I could neither see nor be seen. could hear the sounds from outside. Even his breathing, calm, unhurried like himself, was audible to me. But I hadn't long to wait for other 1 sounds. Footsteps came down the 1 platform outside the windows, then l rounding the corner entered the door near which Mir. Drake was standing l tried to tell myself that they were l no different from the ordinary mas l culine footsteps, but there seemed a | sort of stealthiness about them that 1 struck terror to my soul. They 1 stopped as they came inside the door, 1 and then l heard a voice, in all it's l intonations an American voice, and yet to me unaccouutably suggestive of l alien gutturals.
 Could you tell me how soon the Hampstead train will be in ?" Where had I heard that voice be- l Tore? The words were commonplace
 enough, but I felt that l must cry l out at the menace my imagination
 was reading into the suave tones. MT. Drake's answer was warmly 1 courteous.
 Sorry, but I haven't the slightest l idea he said. I'm waiting myself for the Oyster Bay train That pulls
 in here in half an hour.''
 The other man didn't reply for a 1 moment. When he spoke there was
 a note of enthusiasm in his voice.
 Wonderful night, isn't il? ?" he
 asked
 Yes, indeed" Mir. Drake replied,
 and then there was another silence.
 "I believe I would better tele- phone," the newcomer said next in
 an offhand manner. If l may pass
 you, please.'
 Sorry" returned MT. Drake in an unmoved tone, "but my wife is using
 the booth now, and I have a most
 urgent message to send as soon as
 she has finished. But there is a
 booth upon that outside platform
 over there"
 "Thanks,'' the man said Curtly.
 and as he turned on his heel and his