Schilder, a mocking twinkle in his eye, turned toward Grail.
“And you, captain?” he asked. “Can you give me the same assurance?”
The young officer met his gaze steadily. “Why not?” he said. “To my mind, the investigation simply resolves itself into a matter of determining the authorship of the note received by the colonel, and surely we at the fort are as competent to handle that as some blundering policeman.”
Major Appleby gave a grunt of recollection, and his manner toward Grail relaxed.
“Ah, yes,” he said, with evident relief. “I had forgotten for the moment the existence of that clew. The note is at headquarters, I presume, captain?”
Grail nodded. “I left it on my desk, when the colonel and I came away.”
“Then, come,” urged the major, moving toward the door; “let us lose no time in taking a look at it. We can trust you, I suppose, Mr. Schilder, to take no action until you hear from us?”
“Anything in reason, major,” the manager agreed. “And I certainly hope for all our sakes that you meet with quick success.”
After he had returned from seeing the party off in their automobile, however, and had closed his desk for the night, he lingered a moment in the office before taking his departure.
“I wonder,” he muttered thoughtfully, “if that man Grail is stringing me, or am I stringing him?”