“You know Mr. Doolittle, of Chester?” he asked the man behind the desk.
“Yes, he has stopped here occasionally, but of late I understand he has taken his patronage elsewhere,” the clerk said, with a smile. “As a matter of fact, personally, I am not sorry,” he went on. “He was, if you’ll excuse my saying so—”
He appeared to hesitate, as though he did not want to make a slighting remark in case Tom and his chum were friends of the man in question.
“Oh, go as far as you like,” laughed Sam.
“Well, he’s a big crank, that’s the worst I could say of him,” declared the clerk. “He made my life miserable with his complaints and his wants. I’m glad he was wished on some other hotel.”
There was no question now as to the clerk’s aiding Mr. Doolittle in keeping secret his visit to this hotel. He must be at the other one.
Thanking the clerk for his information, Tom and Sam left to make another call. The second hotel was in the business section of the city, but within walking distance, and the two chums soon found themselves nearing it.
“Go a bit easy,” suggested Sam.
“That’s right,” agreed his chum.
They looked up and down the street. No person resembling Captain Hawkesbury was in sight. Nor could Mr. Doolittle be seen.