"There--take that!" he roared.
The suit rattled, furiously. Out of it spilled the vocaphone with
a bang on the floor.
An instant later those in the hall rushed in. But the Clutching
Hand and Dan were gone out of the window, the criminal carrying
the greater part of the precious papers.
Some ran to Elaine, others to the window. The ladder had been
kicked away and the criminals were gone. Leaping into the waiting
car, they had been whisked away.
"Hello! Hello! Hello!" called a voice, apparently from nowhere.
"What is that?" cried Elaine, still blankly wondering.
She had risen by this time and was gazing about, wondering at the
strange voice. Suddenly her eye fell on the armor scattered all
over the floor. She spied the little oak box.
"Elaine!"
Apparently the voice came from that. Besides, it had a familiar
ring to her ears.
"Yes--Craig!" she cried.
"This is my vocaphone--the little box that hears and talks," came
back to her. "Are you all right?"
"Yes--all right,--thanks to the vocaphone."
She had understood in an instant. She seized the helmet and
breastplate to which the vocaphone still was attached and was
holding them close to herself.
. . . . . . . .
Kennedy had been calling and listening intently over the machine,
wondering whether it had been put out of business in some way.
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