“Then I’ll tell you the address!” said she. “Hotel Benderly—West Seventy-Seventh Street. Don’t forget!”
“I shan’t,” Ross replied. “Thank you! Good-by!”
He went back along the corridor, forgetting all about the note, even forgetting where he was going, until the sight of a white jacket in the distance recalled him.
“Steward!” he shouted.
The man came toward him, anxious and very hurried.
“Look here!” said Ross. “This note—it’s not meant for me.”
“Beg your pardon, sir, but a boy brought it aboard and told me to give it to you.”
“I tell you it’s not meant for me!” said Ross. “Take it back!”
“But it’s addressed to you, sir. Mr. James Ross. There’s no other Mr. Ross on board. The boy said it was urgent.”
“Take it back!” Ross repeated.