"Is this Miss Baldwin speaking?" he inquired, using his off-the-field manner.
"Is my friend, Mr. McCarthy, there?" he inquired when she responded in the affirmative. "I was to meet him, and he has not appeared."
"Hasn't he arrived at the hotel?" he girl inquired in quick alarm. "He left here more than three-quarters of an hour ago. Has something happened to him?"
"I don't know, miss," said Swanson. "I got anxious waiting for him—— You're sure he left your house that long ago?"
"About that—I'm not certain," she said. "He was only here a short time."
"I expect he had to wait for a car, or else went straight to the station without stopping here," said Swanson, striving to quiet the evident alarm of the girl, although his own misgivings were growing. "He left the house alone, did he?"
"Who are you? Are you a friend of his?" asked the girl anxiously.
"Yes, I'm Swanson, his chum," replied the shortstop. "You needn't worry, miss, he'll be all right. I'm sorry I worried you about it."
He hung up the receiver and made a hasty tour of the hotel, descended to the billiard room, peeped into the bar and hurried through the writing and lounging rooms.
"Five after eleven," he muttered to himself, as he turned from the desk. "Kohinoor has found he was late and stayed on the car to the station. I'll grab a taxi and hurry down."