His duty was one of observation. But Stuart felt that observation and action would go very well together; and on this occasion, he intended to try it out.
He had come here to watch two men, without interfering in their normal plans. Luck had broken his way. Paul Hawthorne and Sherwood Mayo had proved to be on friendly terms.
Sizing the two up, Stuart was well convinced that Hawthorne held a very minor position in the mind of Mayo. On the contrary, the multimillionaire loomed as a large factor in Hawthorne's limited world. Sherwood Mayo was a man of large affairs. Paul Hawthorne was a speculator, and something of an adventurer. Mayo appeared care free. Hawthorne seemed to dread some danger. These facts were significant. If a menace really existed for Hawthorne -
outside of the man's own imagination — it must come from an outside source. The promoter gave indications of fearing secret enemies.
On the other hand, Mayo's position, which seemed so secure, might be threatened without the millionaire realizing it. Mayo did not impress Stuart as a type of man who would bother with trivialities. Some scheme might be on foot without the millionaire suspecting the existence of a plot. Mayo was out of the picture tonight. That morning, his speedy monoplane had zoomed over the hotel, headed south for New York. That lightened Stuart's appointed task by half. He had only Hawthorne to consider at present.
But Stuart had a feeling that there might be a third man in this drama. He could not forget that tall, shadowy figure that he had seen outside the gate of Mayo's estate!
Tonight, Stuart intended to play the part of an active observer. From a package on his bed, he removed a suit of dark clothing — rough, ill-fitting garments that he had purchased in the village. Attired in these, he would not be recognized. There was a side door to the hotel, and it was no task to slip in and out without being observed.
Dressed, Stuart grinned as he viewed himself in the mirror. He looked like a farmhand ready for a night out. The dark, long-visored cap came over his eyes. That would do for the present. He could hide his features more effectively, later on.
Stuart slipped a businesslike revolver into his coat pocket. It was a short, snub-nosed.32
that made no bulge. He stole downstairs and left by the side door.