"You're McCarthy, the fellow my niece, Miss Baldwin, introduced me to, aren't you?" he asked pompously, pretending to be uncertain of the identity.
"Yes."
"Well, young fellow, I want to have a quiet little talk with you. Come up to my room at the Metropolis as soon as you get dressed. It's important."
They talked for a few minutes and McCarthy promised to come to the Metropolis after dinner. He hastened to his room, and to his disappointment found that Swanson had dressed hastily and already was gone. Nor did the big Swede come to dinner, and McCarthy was compelled to leave the hotel without seeing him in order to keep his engagement with Baldwin.
He was ushered into a pretentious apartment in the Metropolis, where Baldwin was awaiting him, with a bottle of wine in the cooler at the side of the table and a box of choice cigars at hand.
"Sit down, my boy, sit down," urged Baldwin cordially. "Have a drink and a cigar."
"Thanks—I'll smoke. I'm not drinking," said McCarthy quietly. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes. You see I called Helen up over the long distance to-day and had quite a talk with her about you. She dropped a few hints before she left and I wanted to hear more of you."
"Then she told you who I am?"
"She told me you were a young man of good family and that you were playing under an assumed name—but, of course, having promised, she wouldn't tell more."