Grant greeted him cordially. "Well Wettig, we have a line on your man. Have you heard anything?"
Wettig pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and a card.
"Not until today when a man called at my office and told me to deliver the stuff to a boathouse on the Jersey shore tomorrow, to a Robert Fay. Here's the location of the place."
A smile of satisfaction crossed Grant's face.
"Fay. That was the name." He glanced up. "You haven't delivered the stuff yet, of course?"
"No, I was going to see you first. Thought it was too late tonight to get hold of you."
"Not us. The Criminology Club never sleeps," Grant smiled. "Tomorrow have the T.N.T. delivered to me. Then get into communication with this Fay and tell him that you are having it sent over by someone he can trust. Someone who is all right. You understand? Tell him that your messenger is a trained mechanic and is anxious to be of help to 'The Cause.'" The last was added with a sardonic smile.
Wettig nodded. "I get you. Tomorrow I'll have the stuff delivered. Here's a card that was given me when they first started negotiations. This will help you get by and show them you are the one I mentioned." He held a card, Grant, looking through it toward the light, saw the coat-of-arms of Germany watermarked on it.
"Thanks. I'll be able to make good use of it," he said slipping the card into a leather purse.
Wettig held out his hand. "Good bye, and good luck."