“Well, you have got one. Now let me see—fifty to one he is not at Homburg at all. If he is, he most likely stays at Frankfort. He is a swell, is he not?”
“Swell!” said the Anglo-Dane, puzzled. “Not that I am aware of.” She was strictly on her guard against vituperation of her beloved scamp.
“Pooh, pooh!” said Ashmead; “of course he is, and not the sort to lodge in Homburg.”
“Then behold my incompetence!” said Ina.
“But the place to look for him is the gambling-saloon. Been there?”
“Oh, no.”
“Then you must.”
“What! Me! Alone?”
“No; with your agent.”
“Oh, my friend; I said you would find him.”