“You couldn’t do a more foolish thing,” the captain snapped. “No, don’t go. I want to have a talk with you. But first I must learn what has happened upstairs.”
Flash followed his companion down the corridor to Room 267. The door stood half open, and several hotel officials, an excited bellboy and a chambermaid, already were gathered there.
“What has happened?” demanded Captain Johns gruffly.
“We don’t know,” answered the hotel manager nervously.
“I followed your instructions, sir,” the clerk explained. “In exactly twenty minutes after you left the lobby I telephoned this room. Failing to arouse Major Hartgrove I sent a boy up here. This is the way the room was found. Nothing has been touched.”
Flash gazed curiously about. One of the beds had been used, the other remained neatly made up. A chair was overturned. Suitcases lay open, their contents spread about the floor.
“The room has been ransacked,” the captain muttered. “And I know what they were after.”
“Can you tell if anything is missing?” asked the manager.
“Major Hartgrove carried important documents upon his person.”
Captain Johns made a silent appraisal of the bedroom. He examined the contents of the suitcases, the windows opening upon the fire escape, and then questioned the bellboy and the chambermaid in turn. Neither had seen strangers on the floor during the past two hours, nor had they observed Major Hartgrove since early in the evening.