"Mr. Lockwood and Senor Mendoza had some joint interests in the
country, too, didn't they?" queried Kennedy, his eye still on the
pieces of paper near the door.
"Yes," returned Whitney. "Lockwood!"
"What is it?" came Lockwood's voice from outside.
"Show Professor Kennedy where you and Mendoza have those
concessions."
The young engineer strode into the room, and I saw a smile of
gratification cross Kennedy's face as his foot, also, fell on the
paper by the door.
Unlike Whitney, however, Lockwood bent over to gather up the
sheets. But before he could actually do so Kennedy reached down
and swept them just out of his reach.
"Quite breezy," Kennedy covered up his action, turning to restore
the paper to the desk.
Craig had his back to them, but not to me, and I saw him fumble
for an instant with the papers. Quickly he pressed his thumb-nail
on one side, as though making a rough "W," while on the other side
he made what might be an "L." Then he shoved the two sheets and
the carbon into his pocket.
I glanced up hastily. Fortunately, neither Whitney nor Lockwood
had noted his action.
For the first time, now, I noticed as I watched him that
Lockwood's eyes, too, were a trifle stary, though not so
noticeable as Whitney's.
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