Colonel Welsh just looked at him with raised eyebrows as Dave paused.
“So let’s put out a bit of bait, and see what we catch,” Dawson continued. “Phone some cooked up message back to your Washington office.”
“Such as?” Colonel Welsh grunted.
Dave didn’t reply at once. He sat frowning off into space and absently tapping a fingernail against his top front teeth. Suddenly he took his hand down and snapped his fingers, and flashed a grin at Freddy Farmer before he gave his attention to the Colonel.
“Got it, I think!” he breathed excitedly. “Wire your office, in code of course, that Tracey is dead, but that his message got through! And that you are sending two of your agents to Albuquerque to begin operations there!”
“What operations?” Colonel Welsh demanded.
Dave laughed and snapped his fingers again.
“That’s just it!” he cried. “That’s just what our rat friend will wonder—and wonder plenty. So he’ll probably do something about it, and you can nail him. If nothing else, that will put an end to the Number One Man here in Frisco. And there’s just the chance that we may also grab the lad—whoever he is—at the Albuquerque Base.”
“Yes, that’ll be something,” Colonel Welsh said grimly. “That will be a lot, in fact. And your words aren’t riddles to me now. The two agents who are supposed to be going to Albuquerque with information? They wouldn’t be you two, by any chance, would they?”
“They’d be anybody else over our dead bodies!” Freddy Farmer spoke up. “Quite. And I think that’s rather a clever idea. It coming from Dawson, I’m no end surprised. He’s been reading books, I fancy, when I haven’t been looking.”