“The young one?” he interrupted.
“No, the uncle.”
“Yes, yes, go on,” cried Mr. Fleck impatiently.
“I followed him along Broadway after I got off at 96th Street and into a library and stationery store. I watched him fuss over the books there, and I think he got a slip of paper with a message out of one of them.”
“Good,” cried Mr. Fleck, “that is something new. Go on.”
“And then he slipped a paper into a book—”
“Did you notice what book?”
“I don’t know the title. It was the fifth book from the end on the second shelf, and I got the paper and copied it.”
“Splendid. What did the message say?”
“It’s just a lot of figures. I put it back after copying it, and I am in a drug-store across the street where I can watch to see if any one comes to get the message. What shall I do now?”