"That means inside an hour?" asked Kestner, as he sat down and began writing on a sheet of paper.
"Yep," answered the boy.
Kestner's written reply was as brief as the message that prompted it. He merely said:
"I'll be glad to see you and since you say it's urgent, the sooner the better."
He sealed the note, quietly crossed the room to the locked door, turned the key, and stepped out into the hall. He seemed relieved to find that hallway quite empty.
"Wait here for me," he called back to the boy.
The wait, to the listless-eyed youth, was not a long one. But in that brief space of time a message had gone down for a taxi-cab and a federal plain-clothes man had received instructions to shadow an A.D.T. messenger to the Hotel McAlpin and from the McAlpin back to the Alambo. But that boy was to be in no way interfered with.
Kestner handed his message to the waiting youth, and with it a dollar bill.
"Now are you sure that second message is for the McAlpin?" he inquired.
For answer, the youth produced the message itself. It was a violet-coloured envelope, redolent of patchouli, and inscribed with a handwriting that was almost childish in its formlessness.
One glance at it was enough, and the next moment Kestner was pushing the boy half-humorously towards the open door. Once that door was closed again, however, Kestner's diffidence had disappeared. In two minutes he had made himself ready for the street, and
