“Pardon, but I did.”
“You appeared at the corner I mentioned?”
“Yes. Nobody approached me, so I went on as ordered.”
Verbeck wondered whether the man was speaking the truth, whether he had appeared at the corner, as ordered, and Verbeck had missed him. It was possible, he knew, because of the throng of shoppers. And, again—— The robe effectually disguised the man before him, but Verbeck imagined he was taller than Howard Wendell. He told himself again he was a fool to think that the man before him was his fiancée’s brother. He had half a notion to order him to remove his mask, but thought better of it. This man was a crook, could be nothing else. And Verbeck dared do nothing that would arouse suspicion and endanger the plan he had formed.
“Very well,” he wrote on the board; then went to the table and tossed the proper envelope toward the other.
The man picked it up and read the orders. It seemed to Verbeck that he appeared startled. He went to the blackboard and wrote again:
“Are you sure, sir, that these are my orders?”
“Yes,” Verbeck wrote.
“Must I carry them out?”
“They must be carried out—to the letter,” wrote Verbeck.