Conversation was a little difficult, though Mr. Sabin showed no signs of an impaired appetite. Skinner was white with fear, and glanced every now and then nervously at his chief. Mr. Horser smoked without ceasing, and maintained an ominous silence. Mr. Sabin at last, with a sigh, rose, and lighting a cigarette, took his stick from the waiter and prepared to leave.
“I fear, Mr. Horser,” he remarked, “that your presence has scarcely contributed to the cheerfulness of our repast. Mr. Skinner, am I to be favoured with your company also upstairs?”
Horser clutched that gentleman’s arm and whispered a few words in his ear.
“Mr. Skinner,” he said, “will join us presently. What is your number?”
“336,” Mr. Sabin answered. “You will excuse my somewhat slow progress.”
They crossed the hall and entered the elevator. Mr. Horser’s face began to clear. In a moment or two they would be in Mr. Sabin’s sitting-room-alone. He regarded with satisfaction the other’s slim, delicate figure and the limp with which he moved. He felt that the danger was already over.
CHAPTER V
BUT, after all, things did not exactly turn out as Mr. Horser had imagined. The sight of the empty room and the closed door were satisfactory enough, and he did not hesitate for a moment.
“Look here, sir,” he said, “you and I are going to settle this matter quick. Whatever you paid Skinner you can have back again. But I’m going to have that report.”