Then he left the counter and entered the back room. He dialed a number on the telephone.
Clyde Burke’s weary voice answered the call.
“Burbank,” said the attendant.
“Burke,” came the reply.
“Report. Where is V.?”
Burke’s voice was unintelligible for a moment. Then it became suddenly coherent. He poured out the story of Vincent’s pursuit of Rodney Paget.
“You’re hurt?” questioned Burbank tersely.
“Just out of the hospital — and they don’t know it,” came Burke’s reply.
“Can you get to the Metrolite Hotel?”
“Yes. I’m feeling better now.”