He wandered hopelessly about for an hour or two and oddly enough he took the very same lodgings as Sylvia and Leslie had spent their first night in London; being in that part of the city and too tired to look for better apartments.
Towards noon on the following day Johnson encountered a friend, Thomas Bench by name, and forgetting all about his errand he turned into a public house close by to enjoy a quiet drink with his friend.
"What are you up here for Jim?" said Thomas Bench.
"Well" said Johnson stirring up his hot whisky and water "its rather a serious matter, my master's niece has gone and run away with her young man and I am on the look out for her."
"Aye aye" answered Bench scratching his oily head "what sort of a young miss is she eh?"
"Well she's a pretty sort of girl with plenty of fair hair and blue eyes there is no mistaking she belongs to the upper ten my man"
"Oh indeed" replied Bench taking a piece of blue paper from his pocket "what is the young lady's name?"
"Miss Morton by your leave" roared the butler.
"Well" replied Bench "look here." Johnson snatched the bit of crumpled paper and read it through. On the paper was written
Miss Sylvia Monton.
Homer Villa, Margate.