The detective moved to answer the house phone on the wall
by the alcove, mistaking the direction of the ring. Dale corrected
him quickly.
"No, the other one. That's the house phone." Anderson looked the
apparatus over.
"No connection with the outside, eh?"
"No," said Dale absent-mindedly. "Just from room to room in the
house."
He accepted her explanation and answered the other telephone.
"Hello--hello--what the--" He moved the receiver hook up and
down, without result, and gave it up. "This line sounds dead," he
said.
"It was all right a few minutes ago," said Dale without thinking.
"You were using it a few minutes ago?"
She hesitated--what use to deny what she had already admitted, for
all practical purposes.
"Yes."
The city telephone rang again. The detective pounced upon it.
"Hello--yes--yes--this is Anderson--go ahead." He paused, while
the tiny voice in the receiver buzzed for some seconds. Then he
interrupted it impatiently.
"You're sure of that, are you? I see. All right. 'By."
He hung up the receiver and turned swiftly on Dale. "Did I
understand you to say that you were not acquainted with the cashier
of the Union Bank?" he said to her with a new note in his voice.
Dale stared ahead of her blankly. It had come! She did not reply.
Anderson went on ruthlessly.
"That was headquarters, Miss Ogden. They have found some letters
in Bailey's room which seem to indicate that you were not telling
the entire truth just now.
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