Part 15 (2/2)

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THE X-RAY READER

”I think I'll pay another visit to Whitney, in spite of all that Norton and Lockwood say about him,” remarked Kennedy, considering the next step he would take in his investigation.

Accordingly, half an hour later we entered his Wall Street office, where we were met by a clerk, who seemed to remember us.

”Mr. Whitney is out just at present,” he said, ”but if you will be seated I think I can reach him by telephone.”

As we sat in the outer office while the clerk telephoned from Whitney's own room the door opened and the postman entered and laid some letters on a table near us. Kennedy could not help seeing the letter on top of the pile, and noticed that it bore a stamp from Peru. He picked it up and read the postmark, ”Lima,” and the date some weeks previous. In the lower corner, underscored, were the words ”Personal--Urgent.”

”I'd like to know what is in that,” remarked Craig, turning it over and over.

He appeared to be considering something, for he rose suddenly, and with a nod of his head to himself, as though settling some qualm of conscience, shoved the letter into his pocket.

A moment later the clerk returned. ”I've just had Mr. Whitney on the wire,” he reported. ”I don't think he'll be back at least for an hour.”

”Is he at the Prince Edward Albert?” asked Craig.

”I don't know,” returned the clerk, oblivious to the fact that we must have seen that in order to know the telephone number he must have known whether Mr. Whitney was there or elsewhere.

”I shall come in again,” rejoined Kennedy, as we bowed ourselves out.

Then to me he added, ”If he is with Senora de Moche and they are at the Edward Albert, I think I can beat him back with this letter if we hurry.”

A few minutes later, in his laboratory, Kennedy set to work quickly over an X-ray apparatus. As I watched him, I saw that he had placed the letter in it.

”These are what are known as 'low tubes,'” he explained. ”They give out 'soft rays.'”

He continued to work for several minutes, then took the letter out and handed it to me.

”Now, Walter,” he said brusquely, ”if you will just hurry back down there to Whitney's office and replace that letter, I think I will have something that will astonish you--though whether it will have any bearing on the case remains to be seen. At least I can postpone seeing Whitney himself for a while.”

I made the trip down again as rapidly as I could. Whitney was not back when I arrived, but the clerk was there, and I could not very well just leave the letter on the table again.

”Mr. Kennedy would like to know when he can see Mr. Whitney,” I said, on the spur of the moment. ”Can't you call him up again?”

The clerk, as I had antic.i.p.ated, went into Whitney's office to telephone. Instead of laying the letter on the table, which might have excited suspicion, I stuck it in the letter slot of the door, thinking that perhaps they might imagine that it had caught there when the postman made his rounds.

A moment later the clerk returned. ”Mr. Whitney is on his way down now,” he reported.

I thanked him, and said that Kennedy would call him up when he arrived, congratulating myself on the good luck I had had in returning the letter.

”What is it?” I asked, a few minutes later, when I had rejoined Craig in the laboratory.

He was poring intently over what looked like a negative.

”The possibility of reading the contents of doc.u.ments inclosed in a sealed envelope,” he replied, still studying the shadowgraph closely, ”has already been established by the well-known English scientist, Dr.

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