Frank went the rounds of the verandas, meeting with very fair success. The people there had plenty of money to spare, time hung rather heavy on their hands, and they welcomed his arrival as a diversion.
Frank grew to have a decided respect for Markham’s little puzzle. He had struck the right crowd to sell it to, this time. At the end of an hour fully fifty persons could be seen on the well-lighted verandas and in the hotel rotunda, working over the clever puzzle. An occasional utterance of satisfaction would greet the solution of the puzzle.
“Markham has certainly left me a money-winner, if he never came back,” reflected Frank.
He was passing along a lighted walk near the lake beach, when a young lady ran past him towards a group of friends.
A foppishly-dressed man with a great black moustache was hastening after her, but she was calling laughingly back at him:
“No, no, count, you would take all night getting that ring off—I’ll try some one else.”
“It ees a meestake. Allow me to try once more, my dear young lady.”
“Hello!” ejaculated Frank, with a violent start. Then in a flash he slipped the tray from place, set it hastily on a vacant bench, and as the man was passing by him caught him deliberately by the sleeve.
“Sare!” challenged the man, with a supercilious stare. “Oh!” he added, wilting down in an instant.
“I suppose you don’t know me?” demanded Frank.