“You saw Mito again?” asked Kennedy.
The Secret Service man nodded. “Saw him take his master’s things into the café, then to his room. After that he managed to slip away again. He seems to have something on his mind. I don’t know what it is. We had a glimpse of Sanchez. He is about, but is keeping very low.”
“What has he been doing?”
“Nothing in the open, as far as I know,” returned Riley. “He may be planning something. I don’t like him any more than my man likes Mito. These Japs and wops are deep ones.”
Kennedy smiled, but said nothing. To Riley any foreigner was a suspicious character, if for no other reason than that he could not understand him.
“Any word from Mr. Burke?” I reiterated.
Riley nodded. “Yes, he will be here soon, now, I think.”
“Nothing else on Mito or Sanchez?” resumed Kennedy.
Riley negatived. “Trouble with them is they know I’m watching them,” he explained. “And when a man knows he is being watched it’s easy for him. There’s only one way to get him and that is to stick so close that it means a fight. We’ve had one and I hate to take the responsibility of another without orders from Mr. Burke. Another fight with Mito might not turn out so luckily, either. Besides, I don’t know that we want it to come to a fight—yet. Sanchez looks as though he might give an account of himself. These dark fellows are all knife-men, you know. I decided that it was best to pick up what we could without making a scene.”
Kennedy shrugged. There seemed to be nothing to criticize, though it was a shame that circumstances were such that we were compelled to be content with fragments at a time when we needed every scrap of information.