“Mary Louise Gay.”
The clerk reached for the telephone, and in another minute he told Mary Louise where to find the manager’s office. She followed his directions and walked in bravely, hoping that the man would not think she was dreadfully young.
“I am staying at a small hotel for women called Stoddard House,” she began, “to investigate a series of robberies which they have had there. The Philadelphia police have my name, and if you wish to identify me, please call Mr. LeStrange.”
“I will take your word for it, Miss Gay,” replied the man, smiling.
“These robberies have always occurred when there was a transient guest at the hotel,” she explained. “The last series, while I was at the place, led me to suspect a certain girl; the series before that led other people to suspect another girl. I find these two girls are living here now at the Bellevue—they seem to go from one hotel to another, for they were at the Ritz only last Saturday. They evidently use different names. I should like to meet your hotel detective, explain the case to him, and get permission to watch these two young women.”
The manager did not appear as surprised as Mary Louise expected him to be. But she could not know how common hotel robberies were at the present time.
“I will send for our detective,” he said. “You have my permission to go ahead—under his orders, of course.”
“Oh, thank you!” cried Mary Louise, delighted that so far it had been easy.
The manager sent for the detective, a nice-looking man of about thirty. He introduced him as Mr. Hayden, and repeated Mary Louise’s story.
“What would your plan be, Miss Gay?” asked the detective. He treated her respectfully, as if she were indeed a real member of the profession, and Mary Louise felt proud and happy.