He registered, asking for a quiet, inside room, but the clerk looked dubious when Bob informed him he had no baggage, but would arrange to have his clothes sent down in the morning.
“You’ll have to pay in advance,” he said.
Bob delved into his pockets in search of money and to his embarrassment found that he had less than a dollar.
The clerk appeared skeptical. It was late and after the fight in the street Bob’s clothes were in none too good condition.
“Perhaps you’d better try another hotel,” he suggested.
By that time Bob longed for nothing more than a comfortable bed and a few hours of sleep and his feet were heavy. They wouldn’t have carried him another block.
Reaching inside his coat he pulled out the billfold and drew out the identification badge which had been given to him by the federal chief.
“I guess this will identify me, even though I’m temporarily short of funds,” said Bob. “Now I want that room and I don’t want to be disturbed unless there is something really important. Understand?”
The clerk stared at the identification card and his whole manner changed into one of the utmost courtesy. In less than ten minutes Bob was in bed, to drop into a sleep that was to be disturbed hours later by the strident ringing of the telephone on the stand beside his bed.
It was broad daylight when Bob rubbed the sleep from his eyes and answered the telephone.