written name of his visitor he walked carefully back to the
lobby--not too fast, because he seemed to realise that his legs, at
that time, would not take kindly to speed.

In the lobby the third man approached him:

"Mr. McKay?"

"Mr. Brown?"

"A. I. O. agent," said Brown in a low voice. "You telephoned to
Major Biddle, I believe."

McKay inspected him with profound gravity:

"How do," he said. "Ve' gla', m'sure. Ve' kind 'f'you come way up
here see me. But I gotta see Major Biddle."

"I understand. Major Biddle has asked me to meet you and bring you
to him."

"Oh. Ve' kind, 'm'sure. Gotta see Major. Confidential. Can' tell
anybody 'cep Major."

"The Major will meet us at the Pizza, this evening," explained
Brown. "Meanwhile, if you will do me the honour of dining with
me--"

"Ve' kind. Pleasure, 'm'sure. Have li'l drink, Mr. Brown?"