“Did you want anything, sergeant?”
Again the fat man’s hand went to his hat.
“A message for der colonel, Fräulein,” he said. “But,” with a glance toward the card room, “he don’t like to be disturbed when he blays. So I will wait.”
He had turned to go when Peggy stopped him.
“A message,” she said, insinuatingly. “It might be important. Give it to me.”
“You will hand it to him, Fräulein?” eagerly.
“To be sure—and before very long.”
“Danke schön.” The man went out, leaving Slade’s note in her hand.
George looked at her; there was admiration in his face.
“That was very clever,” he said.