"Whew!" exclaimed Dick. "But you have been engaged in strenuous affairs."
"Rather," nodded Merry. "But the sky is pretty clear now, and I feel like taking a little relaxation. I have a plan that I will unfold after we find Morgan. Inza Burrage, Elsie Bellwood, Bart Hodge, Bruce Browning, and Harry Rattleton are in town, and they——"
"Great Scott!" palpitated the young reporter. "This is great! I'll have to see them all if it takes me away from the paper long enough to get me fired. Here we are. We get off here."
They had reached the Bowery.
Leaving the car, Starbright led the way to one of the cheapest downtown hotels, over the door of which was a sign which stated that rooms could be secured there for fifty cents a night, beds for fifteen and twenty-five cents.
They mounted a flight of dirty stairs and came into the office, where a number of poverty-stricken men were sitting about, reading papers, smoking, and talking. Some of the men looked like hobos, and all wore on their faces the stamp of blighted lives. A single glance made it plain that drink had caused the downfall of nearly all of them.
Merriwell shrugged his shoulders as his eyes ran swiftly over the hotel office and the loungers gathered therein.
"Dade Morgan stopping here!" he mentally exclaimed. "The immaculate, almost æsthetic, Dade in such a wretched place! It seems impossible."
There was no clerk behind the desk.
"Come on," said Starbright. "I know how to find Morgan's room. This way."