Grimm.
The door opened and closed; he was gone. Three minutes later he stepped
into a telephone booth at a near-by corner and took down the receiver.
"Hello, central!" he called, and then: "This is Mr. Grimm of the Secret
Service. What number was Mr. Howard talking to?"
"Eleven double-nought six, Alexandria," was the reply.
"Where is the connection? In whose name?"
"The connection is five miles out from Alexandria in a farm-house on the
old Baltimore Road," came the crisp, business-like answer. "The name is
Murdock Williams."
"Thank you," said Mr. Grimm. "Good-by."
A moment later he was standing by the curb waiting for a car, when
Howard, still angry, and with an expression of deep chagrin on his
face, came bustling up.
"If you can give me until to-morrow afternoon, then--" he began.
Mr. Grimm glanced around at him, and with a slight motion of his head
summoned two men who had been chatting near-by. One of them was Blair,
and the other Hastings.
"Take this man in charge," he directed. "Hold him in solitary
confinement until you hear from me. Don't talk to him, don't let any one
else talk to him, and don't let him talk.
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