“Oh, yes. I must remain at the St. James until Mr. Lonsdale arrives, and that will be nearly a week longer.”
“Then stay in your room as much as is altogether convenient, and hold yourself in readiness to come to me at Elmwood in an hour’s notice, should I send for you,” was Nick’s parting injunction, as Miss Templin got ready to leave the elevated train at Twenty-eighth Street.
Nick continued on uptown, and Miss Templin proceeded at once to the St. James.
Just as she was going into the hotel at the Twenty-eighth Street entrance, she was noticed by one of two men who happened to be passing on Broadway.
One was a man apparently about fifty years of age, of medium height and stockily built. He wore a closely cropped, full beard, of a sandy hue, and was clad in a business suit of light gray.
His companion was a much younger man, whose age could not have been more than thirty-five. He wore no beard at all, but his smooth, pale face showed the close-shaved stubble of a beard which would be intensely black were it allowed to grow, and his closely-cropped head of hair was of the same hue.
It was this younger one of the two who first saw Miss Templin. Instantly he grew excited and exclaimed, as he grasped his companion by the arm:
“Good heavens, Dent! Look there!”
“Look where? Why, what is the matter?”
“Did you see that woman go into the St. James just now?”