Then she springs this on me: 'My God, it's the third!'"

Shirley dropped his cigarette, leaning forward, all nonchalance
gone.

"Where is she now? Quick, let's go to her."

He rose to his feet. Just then a door-boy walked through the
grill-room toward him. "A telephone call for Captain Cronin,
sir; the party said hurry or he would miss something good."

Shirley snapped out, "When has the rule about telephone calls in
this club been changed? You boys are never to tell any one that
a member or guest are here until the name is announced."

He turned toward the puzzled Captain.

"Did you ask any of your operatives to call you here? You know
what a risk you are taking, to connect me with this case like
that, don't you?"

"I never even breathed it to myself. I told no one."

"Follow me up to the telephone room."

Shirley hurried through the grill, to the switchboard, near which
stood the booths for private calls. He called to one of the
operators. "Here, let me at that switchboard." He pushed the
boy aside, and sat down in the vacated chair.