“Seven-thirty. But we’ll go to my room first, and you can copy down the names of all the guests, and their room numbers.”

“Oh, that’s great!” she cried, thankful to be getting at something definite to start with.

As soon as Mrs. Hilliard finished her dinner she and Mary Louise took the elevator to the fourth floor and walked down the long corridor to the back of the hotel. Here was Mrs. Hilliard’s own private apartment, a cozy suite of three rooms and a bath.

Mary Louise settled herself comfortably in an armchair and took out her notebook.

“Do you want the names of the maids?” asked Mrs. Hilliard as she picked up some papers from her desk.

“No, not yet,” replied the girl. “You believe in their innocence, so I think I’d rather study the guests first.”

Mrs. Hilliard handed her a paper, a methodical list of the bedrooms on the second and third floors, and Mary Louise copied it, just as it was, into her notebook:

“Second Floor:
Room 200 Pauline Brooks.
202 May and Lucy Fletcher.
204
206 Mary Louise Gay.
208
201 Mrs. B. B. Macgregor.
203
205 Anne Starling.
207
209
Third Floor:
Room 300 Miss Henrietta Stoddard.
302 Mrs. Weinberger.
304 Miss Hortense Weinberger.
306 Dorothy Semple.
308 Miss Hastings.
301 Ruth and Evelyn Walder.
303
305 Mrs. Moyer.
307
309 Miss Violet Granger.”

“You have quite a lot of empty rooms, haven’t you, Mrs. Hilliard?” inquired Mary Louise, when she had finished her copy.