G O L D E N S N A K E
SUMMER HOTEL
A gravel path led to a dark, high building which rose almost from the edge of the water. Near it was a tennis lawn, and further away a landing-stage for motor-boats, a long line of bathing machines and several villas. McTuft pointed to the roadway. Evidently Dixon's car had pulled up for a few minutes by the side gate and then started again. A sleepy, uncouth individual in slippers and shirt sleeves was about to slink into the hotel by the kitchen entrance when a shout from McTuft stopped him.
"You, over there, come here!" The man turned and came slowly.
"Golden Snake Hotel! Curious name that for a summer hotel," said Wallion.
"It's named after this little bay which is called Golden Snake Bay," volunteered McTuft; "newly erected. Meant to make this into a fashionable watering-place, I guess, but I don't think it will attract many visitors—one of Dixon's unsuccessful speculations."
"What? Is this one of Dixon's Summer hotels?" asked Wallion in surprise. "If so..." He rose hurriedly and jumped out of the car.
By this time the man had come up, and Wallion inquired.
"Are you in Mr. Dixon's employ?"
"I am," said the man, and yawned.
"Your employer's car pulled up here a little while ago, didn't it?"