AS his visitor waited, Bob turned to the desk. Two letters were there, addressed to Robert Galvin.
Bob noted that Harry Vincent was observing them. He sidled over and picked up the letters quickly, turning them so his visitor could not see the addresses. He called for Briggs. The man entered and Bob gave him the letters.
“Take care of these right away,” he said in an undertone. “When you go out. Understand?”
Briggs nodded. Bob turned to shake hands with Harry Vincent. Briggs ushered the visitor to the door. When he returned, Bob was at the telephone.
“Keep on the lookout, Briggs,” he said, in a low voice, as he covered the mouthpiece of the instrument. “Be sure that bird has gone.”
“He’s left, all right,” said Briggs, moving toward the door.
Bob was talking to some one now. He was discussing the man who had just left. Briggs divined from the conversation, that the Chief was on the other end of the wire.
“If this guy Vincent is O.K.,” said Bob, “we’ve got to get busy before these birds show up from South Africa. But he may be a phony — sent by The Shadow to work in with me.
“If that’s the case, I’ve planted the idea with him. He saw those fake letters addressed to Bob Galvin. He saw me give them to Briggs—”
His voice cut off as he listened. Briggs knew that he was getting instructions. Bob uttered the word “yes” at intervals as he kept the receiver close against his ear. His face bore a smile when he laid aside the telephone.