“Yes.”
“The visitor’s name was Paddington?”
“Yes, sir.”
Blaine considered for a moment; then, his decision made, he spoke rapidly in a clear undertone.
“You know the department store of Mead & Rathbun? Meet me there in the ladies’ writing-room in half an hour. Where are you now?”
“In a booth in the drug-store just around the corner from the building where Mr. Rockamore’s offices are located.”
“Very good. Take as round-about a route as you can to reach Mead & Rathbun’s, and see if you are followed. If you are and you find it impossible to shake off your shadow, do not try to meet me, but go directly to the club and I will communicate with you there later.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’ve been followed, but I’ll be very careful. If everything is all right, I will meet you at the place you named in half an hour. Good-by.”
Henry Blaine paced the floor for a time in undisguised perturbation. His move in placing inexperienced girls from Anita Lawton’s club in responsible positions, instead of using his own trained operatives, had been based not upon impulse but on mature reflection. The girls were unknown, whereas his operatives would assuredly have been recognized, sooner or later, especially 128 in the offices of Carlis and Rockamore. Moreover, the ruse adopted to obtain positions for Miss Lawton’s protégées had appeared on the surface to be a flawlessly legitimate one. He had counted upon their loyalty and zeal to outweigh their possible incompetence and lack of discretion, but the stolid German girl had apparently been so clumsy at her task as to bring failure upon his plan.
“So much for amateurs!” he murmured to himself, disgustedly. “The other three will be discharged as soon as excuses for their dismissal can be manufactured now. My only hope from any of them is that French governess. If she will only land Paddington I don’t care what suspicions the other three arouse.”