What the Telephone Told

"The police." The request had been for the police; then why not appeal to the police? Why not take the note now directly to headquarters, and let them help solve its mystery? At first West hesitated, yet a moment's thought convinced him this would be the logical course to pursue. He could accomplish nothing alone, unguided. His appealing to the police need not necessarily involve any disclosure relative to the Coolidge matter. He had found this note accidentally in an alley in the northwest section of the city; his being there need require no special explanation; he did not understand its meaning, but it was quite evidently a police matter, and consequently he placed it in their hands. That all sounded natural enough. Besides at this hour of the night there was no other place to which he could go for information.

He looked at Sexton, who was sleeping soundly, and decided not to awaken the man. He had no use for his services just now; the City Hall was only a few blocks away, and he might not be out more than an hour himself. He would leave a note so that if by any chance he should be delayed, Sexton would understand what had occurred. He scratched this off hastily, placed it in a conspicuous place, and swiftly departed, after extinguishing the light. He was no longer conscious of fatigue, or the pain of bruises, his mind eager to learn the meaning of this new discovery.