Then the superintendent went to the hotel, and taking the proprietor to one side, asked him if he could recollect taking in any fifty-dollar bills during the past week.
“Yes, I took in two of them, and have just now deposited them along with some other money in the bank,” was the answer.
“Can you remember who gave them to you?”
“Oh, yes; one came from a drummer who left on Monday, the day before the strike broke out, and the other came from a New York reporter, who only went away yesterday.”
“Was there any unusual circumstance attending the receipt of either of these bills?”
“No—why, yes, there was too! The reporter was an impudent young dog, and didn’t have any money when I first asked him to pay his bill. He was going out of town and I made him leave his watch as security. The next morning he redeemed it and paid his bill with one of those fifties.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“No; but it is on the register. Here it is. Manning; Myles Manning, New York City. I think he was a friend of your nephew. Anyhow, they had drinks together the night he came.”
“Will you kindly send a messenger to my office with word that I should like to see my nephew here for a minute?”