“Well, I am going to find out right now,” declared Tavia Travers, and she marched back to the clerk’s desk before Dorothy could object, had she desired to.
“This note to my friend is from Mr. Knapp, who is stopping here,” Tavia said to the young man behind the counter. “Did he have anything to do with getting back my bag?”
“I know nothing about your bag, Miss,” said the clerk. “I was not on duty, I presume, when it was handed in. You are Miss——”
“Travers.”
The clerk went to the safe and found a memorandum, which he read and then returned to the desk.
“Your supposition is correct, Miss Travers. Mr. Knapp handed in the handbag and took a receipt for it.”
“When did he do that?” asked Tavia, quickly, almost overpowered with amazement.
“Some time during the night. Before I came on duty at seven o’clock.”
“Well! isn’t that the strangest thing?” Tavia said to Dorothy, when she rejoined her friend at the hotel entrance after thanking the clerk.
“How ever could he have got it in the night?” murmured Dorothy.