CHAPTER XXXIII. LAMONT CRANSTON RETURNS
At nine o'clock, Wednesday morning, Richards was awakened by the ringing of a bell in the kitchen.
The valet had spent a sleepless night, wondering what had become of his master. He was dozing when the bell rang, and he leaped from his chair when he heard it.
"Mr. Cranston is ringing!" he exclaimed. Then, realizing that the millionaire was missing, he added: "Some one must be in his room."
He hurried upstairs and stood in amazement at the door of Cranston's room. The millionaire was lying in bed, with his head propped wearily against the pillows.
"Mr. Cranston, sir!" exclaimed the astonished valet.
"Yes," was the reproving reply. "What kind of care have you been giving me, Richards?"
"What — what, sir?" stammered the valet. "Where have you been, sir?"
"A short while ago I found myself in the wireless room upstairs. I was dressed, and I felt very tired. So I came down and went to bed."
"So you were up there!" exclaimed Richards. "We wondered where you had gone, sir. Did you go up there yesterday afternoon?"