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The Ear in the Wall

24. The Debacle Of Dorgan
Sunday morning came and with it the huge batch of papers which we always took. I
looked at them eagerly, though Kennedy did not seem to evince much interest, to see
whether the Carton photographs had been used. There were none.
Kennedy employed the time in directing some work of his own and had disappeared, I
knew not where, though I surmised it was on one of his periodic excursions into the
underworld in which he often knocked about, collecting all sorts of valuable and
interesting bits of information to fit together in the mosaic of a case.
Monday came, also, the last day before the election, with its lull in the heart-breaking
activities of the campaign. There were still no pictures published, but Kennedy was
working in the laboratory over a peculiar piece of apparatus.
"I've been helping out my own shadows," was all the explanation he vouchsafed of his
disappearances, as he continued to work.
"Watching Mrs. Ogleby?" I hinted.
"No, I didn't interfere any more with Miss Kendall. This was someone else--in another
part of the city."
He said it with an air that seemed to imply that I would learn all about it shortly and I did
not pursue the subject.
Meanwhile, he was arranging something on the top of a large, flat table. It seemed to be
an instrument in two parts, composed of many levers and discs and magnets, each part
with a roll of paper about five inches wide.
On one was a sort of stylus with two silk cords attached at right angles to each other near
the point. On the other was a capillary glass tube at the junction of two aluminum arms,
also at right angles to each other.
It was quite like old times to see Kennedy at work in his laboratory again, and I watched
him curiously. Two sets of wires were attached to each of the instruments, and they lead
out of the window to some other wires which had been strung by telephone linemen only
a few hours before.
Craig had scarcely completed his preparations when Carton arrived. Things were going
all right in the campaign again, I knew, at least as far as appeared on the surface. But his
face showed that Carton was clearly dissatisfied with what Craig had apparently
accomplished, for, as yet, he had not told Carton about his discovery after studying the
photographs, and matters between Carton and Margaret Ashton stood in the same
strained condition that they had when last we saw her.
 
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