"You are very kind. And your address?"
The doctor produced a card.
The address it bore was a number on Stockton street.
"I have a room in that house just at present," he said.
Leggett sat quiet through all this.
Still engaging the doctor in conversation, the old detective trod on his toe.
The signal was returned.
Old King Brady felt that he had been understood, when the Secret Service man suddenly arose and said:
"Will you excuse me, Mr. Brady? I have to keep that appointment with Holes."
"Go on," said Old King Brady. "You are a bit late for it now."