"Well?"
"Oh, I beg your pardon," said the stranger hastily, "but isn't Mr. Fowle in? I expected him to come to the door, and was surprised to see you, don't you know."
"I don't know any Mr. Fowle," said Ted, with a smile that must have told the stranger that he was not taken in by the question.
The fellow threw a quick glance around the room, but did not retreat from his place in the doorway.
Ted was starting to shut the door, considering the incident closed, when the stranger, who was a large, powerful man, well dressed and with the air of a prosperous business man, started to enter.
"This is not Mr. Fowle's room; it is mine," said Ted, blocking the way,
"I'll just step in and wait for him," said the man. "The clerk downstairs said it was his room."
"Wait a minute," said Ted sternly. "I don't know you, and I don't know Fowle. If you have any business with me, state it from the hall."
The warning in the letter flashed through his mind.
Suddenly the man sprang upon Ted, and they fell to the floor together.