Separated into words:
“Be very careful not to let them suspect you. Moore is watched.”
When I had finished taking in the full meaning of this message, which undoubtedly came from the Chief, I realized, with a new sense of confidence, that the Secret Service was not only back of us, but keeping closely in touch.
Then I went to call up Moore. He answered the ’phone at once, and listened without a word while I told him of our adventures that night and the finding of the little book. When I had finished he whistled softly.
“Look here, Clayton,” he said, “this thing is getting pretty serious. They had a whirl at me to-day. At least, somebody did their best to run over me twice this afternoon. I think we had better meet for once, if you can manage to get to me without being followed and I can get to you. I think you’d better bring Larry too. This is what I’ve doped out. You and Larry take a taxi and drive slowly through the Park from 59th Street and Fifth Avenue toward the 72nd Street gate, West Side. On the way you’ll stop and pick me up on an open space, if I am walking bareheaded. If not, do not stop, even if you see me. If I do not turn up or if my hat is on, it will mean that I have been followed, so don’t worry. But I think I can shake them off in the open. Will you do that?”
“Of course I will,” I told him. “What time?”
“About 2.30. Then, if we don’t meet, come back to your rooms and call me at about four. I’ll be waiting.”
“All right, Moore, old man. I’ll do that. Good-night!”
“Good-night.”