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 power-house until the Junta distributes the supplies to De Brigard's men."

"But what power-house is this?"

"I mean the electric-light power-house just outside the town."

"This is worth knowing!" said McKinnon, his leaping thought already struggling to bridge the vicissitudes of the future.

"But this isn't the problem that's blocking our way," his companion warned him. "The first thing we must do is to recover our lost ground. We have to get back this receipt that ties you down to Ganley."

"But even for that we have to wait our chance."

"Why not make the chance?"

"How make it?"

"Ganley is in hourly dread of every message that comes into your wireless-room. He insists on censoring anything that might betray him. Then, after he has gone to bed, to-night, why not send for him—hurriedly call him up to your operating-room? Why not insist that he should come, before he has time to dress? The mere fact that he carries this receipt about with him on his person, as you said, shows how precious he holds it to be. But if he's caught off his guard in that way he might forget. You might