Barry smiled grimly.
"Thanks very much, Operator," he murmured.

"It isn't every mistake that turns out this lucky." Then slowly, studiously, he compared the messages again, the one he had received, and the one on the hook which read: J.C.Blackburn, Deal Building, Chicago, Ill.
Our friend reports Boston deal put over O.K.Everything safe.
Suggest start preparations for operations in time compete Boston for the big thing.

Have Boston where we want him and will keep him there.
THAYER.
It was the same telegram that Barry Houston had received and puzzled over in Boston, except for the address.

He had been right then; the message had not been for him; instead it had been intended decidedly _not_ for him and it meant--what?
Hastily Houston crawled over the railing, and motioning to Ba'tiste, led him away from the station.
Around the corner of the last store he brought forth his telegram and placed it in the big man's hands.
"That's addressed to me,--but it should have gone to some one else.
Who's J.C.Blackburn of Chicago ?" "Ba'teese don't know.

Try fin' out.