“The windows overlook the river and the transports, do they not?”
“Yes, the windows of Mr. Hoff’s bedroom and the room next. Their apartment is a duplicate of ours.”
Mr. Fleck sprang up and crossed to the big safe. Opening an inner drawer he took out a small metal disk and handed it to her. Jane looked at it curiously. It bore no wording save the inscription “K-19.”
“That,” said Mr. Fleck, “is the only thing I can give you in the way of credentials. Keep it somewhere safely concealed about your clothing and never exhibit it except in case of extreme necessity. If ever you are in peril any police officer will recognize it at once and will promptly give you all the assistance possible.”
“But,” protested the girl, “I don’t know yet what I am to do.”
“For the present I am trusting to your resourcefulness to make opportunities to help us. We are watching the house closely from the outside. Carter will identify you to the other operatives. Once a day I will expect you to call me up, not from your home but from a public ’phone. Here is my number. Say ‘this is Miss Jones speaking,’ and I will know who it is. I can communicate with you by note without arousing suspicion?”
“Oh, yes, certainly.”
“If at any time I have to call you on the ’phone, or if any of the other operatives want to communicate with you the password will be ‘I am speaking for Miss Jones.’”
“Isn’t that exciting—a secret password,” cried Jane enthusiastically.
“If you can manage it without compromising yourself too seriously, I wish you would make the young man’s acquaintance.”