Mathison rubbed his chin. It might be some infernal-machine. Still, it had to be opened. With the lightest touch he untied the string. With a slow, steady pull he drew off the cover. Hypnotized, he stared at the contents. A manila envelope, a little red book ... and a folded blue-print!
CHAPTER XII
There are some astonishments which cannot be translated verbally. So great was Mathison's that he could neither think nor move. The aftermath of a thunderbolt affects you like that. When a certain phase of the hypnosis passed, and Mathison began to get the hang of life again, he became conscious of the porter. He drew out a bill and presented it.
"Thanks. Uncle Sam will be very grateful to you. Any idea what was in this box?"
"De lady said it was military, suh."
Mathison nodded. "The man next door, George, is not a Secret Service man. I'd like to tell you all about it, but the time is too short. By telling him that I'm going straight to the Waldorf you will be doing your Uncle Sam an extra service."
"I told him, Cap'n."
"Good! Send a redcap in when the train stops. Good-by and good luck."