CHAPTER VIII.
ONE UNBIDDEN, SHARES GREAT SECRETS.
Immediately on discovering his loss--which was soon after having reached his office--Flint, in something like a fright, telephoned down to the Oakwood Heights laboratory and instructed Herzog, in person, to make a careful search for it and to report results inside an hour.

Even though some of the essentials of his plan were written in a code of his own devising, Flint paled before the possible results should the book fall into the hands of anybody intelligent enough to fathom its meaning.
"Damn the luck!" he ejaculated, pacing the office floor, his fists knotted.

"If it had been a pocket book with a few thousand inside, that would have been a trifle.

But to lose my plan of campaign--God grant no harm may come of it!" Waldron, slyly observing him, could not suppress a smile.
"Calling on God, eh ?" sneered he.

"You _must_ be agitated.