Eva, distracted, was half fainting.
Thus, with Locke handcuffed, Balcom and Paul were triumphant.
Locke saw his chance. But the handcuffs prevented him from using his
hands. In the instant that all were diverted toward Brent, with
incredible deftness Locke slipped his hand from the cuffs, one link of
which fell open as if by magic, through a secret all his own. He reached
down and picked up the paper under the sideboard and read it. It was the
letter Brent had been writing and served only to increase his
perplexity. He read it again, then crushed it into his pocket, and
before any one had discovered his trick had slipped his hand back into
the cuffs and they were locked again.
At that very moment the telephone rang and the chief of the detectives
answered. As he did so a perplexed expression crossed his face and he
walked over quickly to Locke.
"I--beg your pardon," he apologized as he began to unlock the handcuffs.
"Here, my man, what are you doing?" interrupted Balcom.
"I know my business. You lay off," growled the detective.
A moment later Locke, with a slight smile on his handsome face, was
answering the telephone.
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