for a dot, six for a dash with a four-second interval."

"What message did you send?" I asked.

"I told him that Baron Kreiger was at five hundred and one East
Fifth, probably; to get the secret service office in New York by
wire and have them raid the place, then to come and rescue us.
That was Annenberg. He must have come up by that trolley we heard
passing just before."

The minutes seemed ages as we waited for Burke to start the
machinery of the raid and then come for us.

"No--you can't have a cigarette--and if I had a pair of bracelets
with me, I'd search you myself," we heard a welcome voice growl
outside the door a few minutes later. "Look in that other pocket,
Tom."

The lock grated back and there stood Burke holding in a grip of
steel the undersized Annenberg, while the chauffeur who had driven
our car swung open the door.

"I'd have been up sooner," apologized Burke, giving the anarchist
an extra twist just to let him know that he was at last in the
hands of the law, "only I figured that this fellow couldn't have
got far away in this God-forsaken Ducktown and I might as well
pick him up while I had a chance. That's a great little instrument
of yours, Kennedy. I got you, fine."

Annenberg, seeing we were now four to one, concluded that