movement. Babbing went to the bathroom door. “That ’s not so bad,” he said of Barney’s uniform. “Turn around.” He settled the coat collar with a tug and a friendly pat. “Wipe off your shoes with a towel. The halls of the Antwerp aren’t as dusty as all that.” Barney looked up smiling, and found the detective’s eyes kindly, amused, encouraging. “I ought to send you out to get a new pair,” Babbing said, “but there is n’t time. Come in here, now, and let ’s go over this again. I have an improvement to suggest.”
He went to the window and stood looking out. Barney waited in the center of the room, excitedly alert. “You ’re a bell-boy recently employed here,” ^said. “The man at the telegraph desk has said to you: ‘Take this up to Mr. Cooper, room eight-eighteen, and see that he gets it, this time. It ’s a repeat.’ That ’s not according to Hoyle, but it will have to do. Cooper won’t know any better, anyway. So when you deliver the telegram at Cooper’s door, you say: “I was to be sure that
