“I will try to do so,” said Nick, a bit dryly. “I am at the Willard. Drop in and inquire for Mr. Arthur Greenleaf.”
Captain Dillon laughed and promised to do so, then bowed and rejoined his friends.
“A rat, if there ever was one,” thought Nick. “No need to tell him more definitely what business brought me here. He will infer that I suspect Garland of having stolen the plans, however, and that will throw him off his guard. He will feel dead sure, too, that I do not suspect him, or I would not have confided in him. No sane man could reason otherwise.”
Nick left the restaurant before Senator Barclay and his party, but he did not go far. He waited outside in disguise, one easily and quickly adjusted, until the suspects emerged. He saw the hairy foreigner, in company[{23}] with the corpulent woman and the said Verona Warren, part from the others and ride away in a limousine.
Senator Barclay and his daughter left in another, after shaking hands with Garland and Captain Dillon, who then hailed a taxicab and rode away together.
Nick had one waiting near by, to which he hastened and gave the driver his instructions.
“To the Grayling, Vermont Avenue. Drop me there as quickly as possible.”
Ten minutes served to turn the trick.
Nick waited in the doorway of an opposite dwelling. His watch said one o’clock when Garland put in an appearance. He came on foot, walking slowly, staggering at times as if drunk. Nick had noticed, however, that the young man drank nothing in the restaurant. He crossed over and intercepted him at his door.
“You return late, Garland,” said he. “I have been waiting for you.”