Jimmie Dale took off his curious, pocketed leather belt--as the telephone repeated its summons.
He picked out the little drill he had used a short while before, and inspected it critically--feeling its point with his thumb, as one might feel a razor's blade.

Again the telephone rang insistently.

He reached languidly for the receiver, took it off its hook, and held it to his ear.
"Hello!" said Jimmie Dale, with a sleepy yawn.

"Hello! Hello! Why the deuce don't you yank a man out of bed at two o'clock in the morning and have done with it, and--eh?
Oh, that you, Carruthers ?" "Yes," came Carruthers' voice excitedly.

"Jimmie, listen--listen! The Gray Seal's come to life! He's just pulled a break on West Broadway!" "Good Lord!" gasped Jimmie Dale.