Curlie Carson Listens In
"Can't tell," said Coles thoughtfully. "You can't really judge distances in air accurately. There are powerful equipments which might be mounted on either automobiles or airplanes."
"The thing that puzzled me, though, was his line of chatter. All about some 'map, old French,' and a lot of stuff like that. I--"
Suddenly he broke off. A grinding sound had come from one of the loud speakers. There followed in a clear, strong voice:
"Map O.K. Old French is amazing. Good for a million."
Curlie's fingers were busy once more as a tense look drew his forehead into a scowl.
"About fifteen miles," he whispered.
Then the voice resumed:
"Time up the bird. When?"
A tense silence ensued. Then, faint, as if from far away, yet very distinctly there came the single word:
"Wednesday." This was followed by three letters distinctly pronounced: "L.C.W."
A second later came the strong voi