Phillips dropped this name from his lips as if it explained everything that needed to be known. Then he turned to the bed. It showed plainly that it had been slept in, but it was tumbled in such a manner as to suggest that its occupant had got up in a hurry.
Chick also gazed at the bed, while the habit of deduction, which had been emphasized in him by the admonitions of Nick Carter, caused him to note every little detail, no matter how unimportant it might appear to be at first glance.
“How many pillows were there on this bed last night, Phillips?” he asked abruptly.
“Two.”
“Sure?”
“Quite sure, doctor,” replied Phillips, who never forgot that Chick was supposed to be a Doctor Fordham on this trip.
“One of them is missing.”
Phillips looked about the room, under the bed, behind the shabby dresser, and in out-of-the-way corners. Then he gazed steadily at Chick and nodded his head as if he had come to an indubitable conclusion.
“Jason must have taken it,” he said. “He has been near us for a day. Prince Marcos caught him last night, opposite the hotel, but Jason got away. I will go and see about the motor car. Will you have breakfast first?”
“Breakfast nothing!” snapped Patsy. “I wouldn’t dare to take anything here again.”