"Bird?"
"A parrakeet."
"That'll be all right. We bar dogs and cats."
The door of the elevator had scarcely closed behind Mathison when a man walked leisurely over to the desk and inspected the freshly written signature. He seemed startled for a moment; then he laughed.
"A room, sir?"
"No. I was looking to see if a friend of mine had arrived. He hasn't."
The stranger walked away; he strolled into the bar, looked into the restaurant, mounted the first flight of stairs and wandered into the parlor, which was empty and chilly. Next he hailed an elevator and asked to be let out on the third floor. Here he walked to the end of the corridor and returned, took the next car down, and went directly into the street. At the north side of the hotel was an alley. The man stared speculatively into this, jumped into a waiting taxicab and made off.
Half an hour later a woman entered the hotel parlor, selected a chair by the corridor wall, and sat down. You might have gone into the parlor and departed without noticing her.
Meanwhile Mathison set the cage by the radiator, went into the bathroom, came back and felt of the bed, and smiled at the bellboy.
"This will do nicely. How big a town is this?"