As
he held it, looking keenly about, his eye rested on Elaine's
picture. A moment he looked at it, then quickly at the fireplace
opposite.
An idea seemed to occur to him. He took the package to the
fireplace, removed the screen, and laid the package over the
andirons with one end pointing out into the room.
Next he took from the cabinet a couple of storage batteries and a
coil of wire. Deftly and quickly he fixed them on the package.
Meanwhile, before an alleyway across the street and further down
the long block the express wagon had stopped. The driver and his
helper clambered out and for a moment stood talking in low tones,
with covert glances at our apartment. They moved into the alley
and the driver drew out a battered pair of opera glasses,
levelling them at our windows.
Having completed fixing the batteries and wires, Clutching Hand
ran the wires along the moulding on the wall overhead, from the
fireplace until he was directly over Elaine's picture. Skillfully,
he managed to fix the wires, using them in place of the picture
wires to support the framed photograph. Then he carefully moved
the photograph until it hung very noticeably askew on the wall.
The last wire joined, he looked about the room, then noiselessly
moved to the window and raised the shade.
Quickly he raised his hand and brought the fingers slowly
together.
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