“But how will you do the job?”
“You have a key to his room, I suppose?”
“Of course. It is No. 12.”
“I have here a bottle of chloroform. I will put some on a handkerchief, and steal in and chloroform him. Then we can make up our minds what to do next.”
The two men left the room, closing the door after them.
Bob drew a long breath. He had actually overheard a plot against one of the guests of the hotel, and the young photographer was compelled to shiver at the thought.
His duty was plain. No matter what the risk, he must warn the intended victim of the plot against him.
Bob wondered who the person could be. Evidently it was somebody with whom Casco was well acquainted.
Without hesitation Bob pushed aside the curtain and sprang through the window.
The light was still burning, and at a glance the young photographer saw the apartment was an unoccupied bedroom.