"Piffle! If the woman is gone for good we can't risk meddling with this Lord Mayor chap. I'm not courting suits for damages these days; not me. You've been going to the movies too much. Anyhow, she paid five for the room. It's none of our business if she doesn't sleep in it."
"All right. Only, don't jump on me if anything happens."
"Tell your troubles to the house detective. That's what he's here for."
The clerk acted on this advice at once. "Michaels," he said, "you take this key and look around room two twenty. See if the woman took or left anything. There's a queer game going on here to-night."
The house detective returned shortly. He doubted if any one had been in room 220 at all.
"Better stick around, anyhow."
"All right."
At the police-station the night captain rocked in his swivel-chair and chewed his cigar. There had recurred to his mind an old phrase, which applied to the crook as well as to the honest man, "He travels fastest who travels alone." Well, so long as it was fish to his net, he had no right to complain. On his desk lay a stack of those sinister handbills which the police send hither and thither across the continent under the caption "Wanted." From time to time he referred to a letter which he had just received by messenger. A fall-down on the divvy, and the pal blows the game. But a thousand dollars, a real bank-roll, was worth trying for these hard times. All he had to do was to call up the Watkins. If there was anything to the information, the hotel clerk would be able to tell. He drew the telephone toward him.
"This the Watkins?... Police-station talking. Man by the name of Richard Whittington registered?... He is? Good! Listen to me. Describe him." The captain smoothed out a handbill and kept his eye on it obliquely. "All right. Tall, very dark, good-looking, blue eyes, smooth, no beard. Yes, that sounds like him.... 'Black' Ellison, wanted in San Francisco for diamond robbery and assault.... There was a woman? Gone? That's tough. She may have taken the swag. Well, it can't be helped. Get the man down-stairs to the private office. I'll send Murphy over in fifteen minutes. Better call in a patrolman. This man Ellison is a strong-arm, for all his good looks."