And then Captain Meade relinquished the argument, glad to settle the vexed question, at least temporarily. "Very well," he said, a trifle reluctantly. "Stay you shall, since you wish it so, at least for a while. But, Patricia, attend to what I am going to say, and never forget it under any circumstances. It's an old saying that 'walls have ears,' but it was never truer than it is in these days and in a big hotel. Trust no one. Hear everything, see everything—and say nothing. My very life, and even yours too, may depend upon your obeying in this, implicitly."
Patricia nodded gravely. "I understand, Father!" was all she replied. But her brain was a-whirl with feverish, delicious excitement. "Spies," "danger," "secret mission"—the magic words gave her an indescribable thrill! And yet, with it all, she realized too the gravity of the affair; and the realization served to give her a mental balance beyond her years.
"But now let's go down to dinner!" cried the Captain gaily, glad to change to a subject less tense. "I've an appetite worthy of an ex-prisoner in a German camp!"
As they passed out into the corridor, Patricia glanced up at the number over their door. "Suite number 403!" she murmured, squeezing her father's arm. "Now I wonder just what's going to happen to us while this is our home number?"
CHAPTER II
FRIENDS OR ENEMIES?
They made their way through the long corridors, down the elevator, past the cosy sun-parlors and into the imposing dining-room. To Patricia it was all a splendid adventure, even without the strange, new element so recently hinted at by her father.
"Daddy," she began, when they were settled at a comfortable table for two in a remote corner, "I wonder if you realize how simply heavenly it is for me to sit down to a meal like this (not to speak of all the meals to come!) and pick out just exactly what I want to eat, without having cooked or helped to cook them all beforehand, and knowing I won't have to wash the dishes afterward!" She picked up the menu and scanned it luxuriously. "Now I think some cream-of-asparagus soup and a tenderloin steak and some nice French-fried potatoes would just suit me to-night!"
There was no response to her remark, and, glancing up curiously, she found her father's gaze riveted on the waiter who had just arrived to take their order. Patricia, too, turned her attention to the man, and found him a singularly unprepossessing individual. He was of medium height, with a swarthy skin, and black hair plastered closely down the sides of his head. His eyebrows were extremely black and bushy, and one eyelid drooped conspicuously. Several of his prominent front teeth were of gold, and gleamed in a sinister manner when he spoke. His voice was thick and husky, and had a foreign accent.
"Are you to be the regular man for this table?" questioned the Captain. The man merely nodded in sullen affirmation.
"I want to know your name," pursued Captain Meade. "I expect to be here some time and may keep this table. And if I'm going to have anyone about me regularly, I prefer to call him by the name that belongs to him. What's yours?"