“Midnight! How late is it?”
“Twenty after one, sir.”
Flash nodded and walked to the elevator. So intent was he upon his thoughts that he failed to see a familiar figure slip quietly from a telephone booth on the opposite side of the lobby.
The man was Herbert Rascomb.
CHAPTER XIX
A DOUBLE RESIGNATION
George Doyle was in the bedroom, sitting at the writing desk. As Flash pushed open the door, he twisted in his chair to face him.
“Flash!”
“Rather surprised to see me, aren’t you, Doyle?”
“Surprised?” Doyle arose unsteadily to his feet. “It’s a miracle! I—I gave you up for dead. Thought you had drowned.”
“So sorry to inconvenience you.”