“No,” answered the Englishman. “The man is not associated in my mind with anything that took place in your capital city.”
“On the boat coming over?” suggested Carl with a wink at Jimmie.
“No-o,” hesitated the Englishman. “I can’t associate that face with anything on board the steamer. It might have been on the train coming across the continent,” he went on in a musing tone. “It might have been in the Pullman on the way over.”
“If your recollection is so indistinct,” Jimmie put in, “it must be because you didn’t see much of him on the train. Perhaps he remained in his stateroom most of the time.”
“That’s clever of you, don’t you know!” the Englishman drawled. “Your suggestion of the stateroom brings it all back. This dead man, don’t you know, often passed in and out of the stateroom door and we noticed his goings and comings because he never permitted any one to see inside the door, don’t you know.”
“Did the man lose anything on the train?” asked Jimmie.
“Yes, he told the porter he had lost his bag.”
CHAPTER XV.
THE MAN IN THE STATEROOM.
“Did he make much of a row about it?” asked Jimmie.
“No,” was the answer, “because the porter convinced him that it had accidentally fallen from the vestibule during a short stop in one of the passes. The fellow seemed glad to know that it was gone!”