"They s-s-said they were c-coming at
eight!"
"Let me see that note!" commanded McGivney; so Peter pulled out one
of Nell's notes which he had saved for himself:
"If you really believe in a bold stroke for the workers' rights,
meet me in the studios, Room 17, tomorrow morning at eight o'clock.
No names and no talk. Action!"
"You found that in your pocket?" demanded the other.
"Y-yes, sir."
"And you've no idea who put it there."
"N-no, but I think Joe Angell--"
McGivney looked at his watch. "You've got twenty minutes yet," be
said.
"You got the dicks?" asked Peter.
"A dozen of them. What's your idea now?"
Peter stammered out his suggestions. There was a little grocery
store just across the street from the entrance to the studio
building. Peter would go in there, and pretend to get something to
eat, and would watch thru the window, and the moment he saw the
right men come in, he would hurry out and signal to McGivney, who
would be in a drugstore at the next corner. McGivney must keep out
of sight himself, because the "Reds" knew him as one of Guffey's
agents.
It wasn't necessary to repeat anything twice. McGivney was keyed up
and ready for business, and Peter hurried down the street, and
stepped into the little grocery store without being observed by
anyone.
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