X. TWO IN A TRAP
“Th' juke sent his card up, sir,” said Turk, his master was once more in his rooms at the Bellevue. Turk was looking eminently respectable in a new suit of blue serge.
“When?” asked Phil, glancing at Laselli's card. He had forgotten the Italian, and the sight of his name recalled the plot unpleasantly.
“'Bout eleven o'clock. I watched him leave th' hotel an' go down that street over there—th' same one you took a little earlier.”
“Watching me, I suspect. Haven't seen that detective fellow, have you, Turk? You ought to be able to scent a detective three miles away.”
“I can't scent in this language, sir.”
Early in the evening, as Quentin was leaving the hotel for a short stroll, he met the duke. The Italian accosted him familiarly and asked if he were trying to find a cool spot.
“I thought a ride on the tramcars might cool me off a bit,'” said Phil.
“I know the city quite well, and I, too, am searching for relief from the heat. Do you object to company in your ride or stroll?”
“Happy to have you, I assure you. If you'll be good enough to wait here for a moment, till I find my stick, I'll be with you.” The duke bowed politely, and Phil hastened back to his rooms. He secured his stick, and did more. Like a wise young man, he bethought himself of a possible trap, and the quest of the stick gave him the opportunity to instruct Turk to follow him and the duke and to be where he was needed in case of an emergency.