Clyde looked to the left without moving his head. He noted that Paget was rising from the table at the end of the room.
The man had turned slightly so that his profile was visible. He drew a watch from his pocket and noted the time. Then he surveyed the restaurant in a curious way. Neither Harry nor Clyde made a suspicious movement.
Paget paid the waiter and looked about him. Then he strolled to the back of the room.
“He’s telephoning,” whispered Clyde. “There’s a booth in the corner. I can just see the edge of it.”
Harry nodded.
Minutes dragged by. Harry became uneasy. He glanced toward the back of the room. Then he leaned across the table.
“That’s a long phone call,” he whispered. “I’m going back there to look up a number.”
He arose and went to the back of the restaurant. Clyde saw him as he stepped beyond the booth. Then Harry’s face turned suddenly toward the table, where Clyde Burke was sitting and the newspaperman observed a look of profound amazement on his friend’s features. He arose in response to a signal from Harry.
“Look!” exclaimed Harry, when Clyde reached him. Vincent was pointing to the telephone booth.
Clyde Burke was too astonished to reply. They were in the extreme corner of the restaurant, in an obscure spot flanked by plain, painted walls. Before them, its entrance toward the back of the restaurant, was the telephone booth. It was absolutely empty.