"Talk sense!" ejaculated Miller disgustedly and, without waiting to hear the detective's thanks for his luncheon, turned on his heel and hurried up Fourteenth Street. Mitchell watched his tall, erect figure out of sight with absorbed attention.
"I'd give a lot to know who he suspects murdered Spencer," he muttered under his breath, and started for the Municipal Building.
As Miller approached his hotel, he thought he saw Foster's yellow touring car move away from the ladies' entrance. After procuring his mail he went at once to his room. He was about to open his letters when his eyes fell on an open drawer of his desk. Putting down the bundle in his hand, he carefully investigated every pigeonhole and drawer. The papers he looked for were missing.
Rising quickly, Miller examined the windows of his room and bathroom. They were securely fastened on the inside. In deep thought he went out into the hall to where the floor chambermaid and a companion were sitting in full view of his door.
"Have you been here long?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," replied the elder girl. "I've been on duty here ever since noon, and Mary," laying her hand on her companion, "was here all the morning."
"Has either of you seen anyone enter my bedroom?"
"No, sir, only yourself, sir," answered the first speaker, and Mary echoed her words.