Clyde Burke was answering a telephone call at the Classic office. A pleasant voice was speaking over the telephone.
“Mr. Burke?”
“Yes.”
“This is the National Photo Service. Have you seen our man to-day?”
“No.”
“He is anxious to see you before ten o’clock.”
Burke hung up the phone.
“I’m going over to National Photo,” he said. “I want to look over some pictures.”
The man at the city desk nodded. Burke left the office. He went uptown instead of down. For that telephone call had contained certain words which were emphasized by the speaker.
The real import of the message was: “Our man — ten o’clock.”