The next morning Whitley was the first to learn from Frank Goodrich, of Amy's quarrel with her father, and the reason. Without a word of what he had seen, he made hurried preparation and followed her on the next train.
At Jonesville, he easily made the rounds of the hotels and carefully examined the registers, but Amy's name was on none of them. Concluding that she must be at the home of some friend, he had placed his own name on the last book he examined, and seated himself to think over the situation, when he heard a bell-boy say: "That girl in number sixteen wants a 'Frisco' time-table."
Whitley lounged carelessly up to the counter and again glanced over the register. Number sixteen was occupied by a Miss Anderson. Catching the eye of the clerk, he placed his finger on the name and winked. "When did she get in?" he asked, in a low tone, at the same time slipping a gold-piece beneath the open page.
"On the one-thirty from the west, last night," the fellow replied, in the same cautious manner, as he whirled the book toward him and deftly transferred the coin to his own pocket, without attracting the attention of the landlord who stood near by.
"I believe I'll go to my room and clean up," said Whitley, a moment later.
"Show this gentleman to number fifteen," promptly called the clerk, and Whitley followed the boy who had answered Miss Anderson's call upstairs.
When he had placed the heavy grip on the floor, the boy turned to see
Whitley holding out a dollar bill.
"Did you get a look at the lady in number sixteen, when you went up with that time-card?"
"Course I did."
"Can you describe her?"