“I don’t find it!” said Macloud, searching. “What pocket is it in?”
“The inside breast pocket!” exclaimed Croyden, ramming the last stud home. “Where would you think it is—in the small change pocket?”
“Then suppose you find it for me.”
“I’ll do it with——” He stopped. “Do you mean it isn’t there?” he exclaimed.
“It isn’t there!” said Macloud, holding up the coat.
Croyden’s fingers flew to the breast pocket—empty! to the other pockets—no wallet! He seized his trousers; then his waistcoat—no wallet.
“My God! I’ve lost it!” he cried.
“Maybe you left it in Hampton?” said Macloud.
Croyden shook his head. “I had it when we left the Weston party—I felt it in my pocket, as I bent to tie Miss Cavendish’s shoe.”
“Then, it oughtn’t to be difficult to find—it’s lost between the Sampson Gate and the hotel. I’m going out to search, possibly in the fading light it has not been noticed. You telephone the office—and 123 then join me, as quickly as you can get into your clothes.”