When Clarence was ushered by the proud young host to the Rector’s room, he was bade to sit down.
“Well, Clarence, while you were sleeping, I was quite busy on your case. The hotel-man from McGregor was here and identified you.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, and I’ve sent out for all sorts of information.”
“But, why don’t you wire my father?”
“The trouble is, Clarence, we don’t know where he is.”
“He’s at the Metropole Hotel, Los Angeles,” said Clarence. “The hotel-man could have told you that.”
“No, Clarence,” said the Rector trying to speak casually, “the train did not get there yet.”
“Was it delayed?”
“Yes. In fact, there was a bad wreck. Some of the cars tumbled into the water.”