Glancing about undecidedly, wondering if it would do to take the clerk
into her confidence, wishing she had some means of reaching Mr. Fleck
and asking his advice, she spied in a drug-store just across the street
a telephone booth. She could telephone from there and at the same time
keep her eye on the store. Quickly she did so, twisting her head around
all the time she was 'phoning to make sure that no one entered opposite.
"Is this Mr. Fleck?" she asked. "This is Miss Jones."
"So soon?" came back his voice. "What has happened? What is the matter?
Have you changed your mind?"
"Not at all," she answered indignantly. "I've discovered something
already--a cipher message."
"What's that?"
Even over the wire she could sense the eagerness in Mr. Fleck's tone,
and a sense of achievement brought a radiant glow to her cheek.
"I ran into that man--you know whom--"
"The young one?" he interrupted.
"No, the uncle."
"Yes, yes, go on," cried Mr. Fleck impatiently.
"I followed him along Broadway after I got off at 96th Street and into a
library and stationery store. I watched him fuss over the books there,
and I think he got a slip of paper with a message out of one of them."
"Good," cried Mr. Fleck, "that is something new. Go on."
"And then he slipped a paper into a book--"
"Did you notice what book?"
"I don't know the title.
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