His faith in Middleton’s appearance was waning. Like Blefken, he was beginning to think that the writer of the note was a creature of fantastic imaginings.
“It may be pretty soon, now,” said Blefken encouragingly. “Guess it seems long to you, though.”
“It seems hours since your friends were in here with you,” came Cardona’s response. “How’s the game going?”
“I’m out twenty dollars so far. Can’t keep my mind on it.”
“What’s the time now?”
“After nine,” said Blefken. “Around nine thirty, I guess.”
He pressed a bell. In less than a minute a servant appeared. Joe Cardona was quiet now. No one could possibly have suspected that he was in the room.
“Remember, Stokes,” ordered Blefken, “if any one comes to see me, show them in here. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Also remember to tell me that long distance is calling.”