“I don’t know the gentleman,” replied Gerald with a smile.
“Well, he’s in here just the same,” declared Johnson.
“Oh, sure! I’ve got him in my pocket!”
“He’s in a closet,” whispered another fellow audibly.
“Under a bed, probably,” growled a third. “Say, whose room is this, anyway?”
“This room belongs to my friend, Mr. Burtis,” returned Gerald amiably. “If you ask him nicely he will probably allow you to come in and search it to your heart’s content. Mind if this committee of thugs looks around, Burtis?”
“N-no, I suppose not,” answered Kendall. “But I don’t see why they should.”
“I don’t see any reason myself,” agreed Gerald, carefully avoiding a glance toward the further bed. “Johnson, on the whole, I guess you’d better run away. And you might close the door after you.”
“Then he isn’t here?” asked Johnson doubtfully.