“The clerk in the supply room!” gasped Curt.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Bob—because he takes a copy of every order he writes and of every requisition, on an old-fashioned letter press, the same way they put their copying ribbon letters in between a damp cloth and a soft, thin sheet of the big book, put it all in the press and make the copying ribbon print the letter into the book instead of using carbon paper!”
“Then we have a clue! How does the clerk’s writing compare with this?”
“Let’s see!”
Each of the three having spoken in turn, by common consent they agreed to Al’s impulsive suggestion. They were hardly able to wait for their supper; however, they put it away with speed if not with the best of table manners and secured their bicycles.
It took them only a short time to reach the aircraft plant.
The watchman accepted their explanation that they were passing and wanted to borrow several books from Mr. Tredway’s reference library, in the offices.
Bob, accordingly, went to the offices, while Curt and Al strolled, with apparent aimlessness, across the inner quadrangle.
“There’s a light in one window—no, in two windows—already!” Al mentioned. “I wonder who’s here, at night again.” Almost at once he suggested that they go and see.