"Yes. I came here in April of that year."
"Of course, you could hardly be expected to remember a casual guest?"
"I am afraid not. What is his name?"
"James Harding."
"James Harding! Yes, I do remember him, and for a very good reason. He took a very severe cold on the way from New York, and he lay here in the hotel sick for two weeks. He was an elderly man, about fifty-five, I should suppose."
"That answers to the description given me. Do you know where he went to from here?"
"There you have me. I can't give you any information on that point."
Luke began to think that his discovery would lead to nothing.
"Stay, though," said the clerk, after a moment's thought. "I remember picking up a small diary in Mr. Harding's room after he left us. I didn't think it of sufficient value to forward to him, nor indeed did I know exactly where to send."
"Can you show me the diary?" asked Luke, hopefully.