"Be good enough to post that, please," he requested. "It isn't sealed. I
don't know if your prison rules require you to read the letters that go
out. If so, read it, or have it read, then seal it."
For answer the guard dampened the flap of the envelope, sealed it,
thrust it into his pocket and passed on. The secret agent sat down
again, and sipped his milk meditatively.
One hour later Mr. Grimm, accompanied by Johnson, came out of a
photographer's dark room in Pennsylvania Avenue with a developed
negative which he set on a rack to dry. At the end of another hour he
was sitting at his desk studying, under a magnifying glass, a finished
print of the negative. Word by word he was writing on a slip of paper
what his magnifying glass gave him and so, curiously enough, it came to
pass that Miss Thorne and Chief Campbell of the Secret Service were
reading the hidden, milk-written message at almost the identical moment.
"Johnson got Petrozinni's letter from the postman," Mr. Grimm was
explaining. "I opened it, photographed it, sealed it again and remailed
it. There was not more than half an hour's delay; and Miss Thorne can
not possibly know of it.
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