From a shelf in the corner he
took down an oblong oak box, perhaps eighteen inches in length, in
the front of which was set a circular metal disk with a sort of
pointer and dial. He lifted the lid of the box, and inside I could
see two shiny caps which in turn he lifted, disclosing what looked
like two good-sized spools of wire. Apparently satisfied with his
scrutiny, he snapped the lid shut and wrapped up the box
carefully, consigning it to my care, while he hunted some copper
wire.
From long experience with Kennedy I knew better than to ask what
he had in mind to do. It was enough to know that he had already,
in those few minutes of apparent dreaming while Donnelly and
Bentley were fidgeting for words, mapped out a complete course of
action.
We bent our steps toward the under-river tube, which carried a few
late travellers to the railroad terminal where Kennedy purchased
tickets for Glenclair. I noticed that the conductor on the
suburban train eyed us rather suspiciously as though the mere fact
that we were not travelling with commutation tickets at such an
hour constituted an offence.
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