"Hang it!" muttered Wilkinson. "He ought to know me if anybody does. He doesn't know me, and yet you did. How do you account for that?"
"I was looking for a bigger tip," laughed Leech.
At the next corner they stopped and Wilkinson entered a public telephone booth, closed the glass door behind him and then called up the Barristers' Club. Presently the man he called for was at the other end, was answering "Hello." Wilkinson smiled, for the voice held excitement in it.
"Peter!" yelled Morehead in delight.
"Yes, and I'm coming to the Barristers'."
"In broad daylight?"
"Yes, right now. I want to talk to you and talk to you hard. I've read all the New York papers and know all that's going on.... And say, look here, you'd better tell your people there to be on the look-out for a tramp and a con man, for they'll never let us in unless you do."
"Who's the con man?" queried the Colonel, not fully recovered from the shock that Wilkinson had given him.
Whereupon Wilkinson without reply rang off.
Fifteen minutes later Colonel Morehead threw open his bedroom door in the Barristers' Club and threw his arms about his disreputable-looking client.