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There was no hallucination about it. We all
heard. As the vibrations increased it was evident that they were
shaping themselves into words.
Kennedy had grasped the black box the moment the sound began and
was holding two black rubber disks to his ears.
At last the sound from overhead became articulate It was weird,
uncanny. Suddenly a voice said distinctly: "Let American dollars
beware. They will not protect American daughters."
Craig had dropped the two ear-pieces and was gazing intently at
the Osram lamp in the ceiling. Was he, too, crazy?
"Here, Mr. Brixton, take these two receivers of the detectaphone,"
said Kennedy. "Tell me whether you can recognise the voice."
"Why, it's familiar," he remarked slowly. "I can't place it, but
I've heard it before. Where is it? What is this thing, anyhow?"
"It is someone hidden in the storeroom in the basement," answered
Craig. "He is talking into a very sensitive telephone transmitter
and--"
"But the voice--here?" interrupted Brixton impatiently.
Kennedy pointed to the incandescent lamp in the ceiling.


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