Freund nodded and leisurely sketched in the episode at Dragon Court.
The man, whose name was Franz Lehr, and who had been born in New York of German parents, listened with lively interest to the narrative. But he whistled softly when it ended:
“You took a few chances, Max,” he remarked. “It’s all right, of course, because you got away with it, but——” He whistled again, thoughtfully.
“Sendelbeck must haff his letter. Yess? Also!”
“Certainly. I guess that was the only way—if she was really going to take it up to young Barres. And I guess you’re right when you conclude that Nihla won’t make any noise about it and won’t let her friend, Barres, either.”
“Sure, I’m right,” grunted Freund. “We got the goots on her now. You bet she’s scared. You tell Ferez—yess?”
“Don’t worry; he’ll hear it all. You got that letter on you?”
Freund nodded.
“Hand it to Hochstein”—he half turned on his rickety chair and addressed a squat, bushy-haired man with very black eyebrows and large, angry blue eyes—“Louis, Max got that letter you saw Nihla writing in the Hotel Astor. Here it is——” taking the pasted fragments from Freund and passing them over to Hochstein. “Give it to Sendelbeck, along with the blotter you swiped after she left the writing room. Dave Sendelbeck ought to fix it up all right for Ferez Bey.”