To Foster's relief, the hotel manager came in and looked at the two ladies hesitatingly. Neither took the hint and Lucy said, rather sharply, "Well?"
"Mr. Walters has come round and demands to be let out of his room.
Your man's there, Mr. Foster, and won't let him move."
"Pete's splendid!" said Lucy. "I haven't thanked him yet. Perhaps you had better go, Lawrence, but take Jake."
Foster beckoned the manager and when they were outside asked: "When do you expect the police?"
"Some time to-morrow."
"Then we must watch the fellow closely until they come."
They stopped at a room on the second floor, and the manager frowned when he turned the handle of the door, which would not open.
"Wha's there the noo?" a sharp voice demanded.
Foster laughed as he answered, the door was opened, and they saw Walters, who looked much the worse for the struggle, lying on a couch, while Pete stood grimly on guard. Walters glanced at Foster.
"You're something of a surprise," he said. "We didn't expect much from you."