"Good. I wish you well," and his tone was one of decided relief. "Your adventures ought to prove quite amusing."
Coolidge laughed heartily, the whole affair apparently taking on a new aspect, now that he felt he comprehended the real purpose of the other.
"Oh, by the way, West, you must pardon me if I send Sexton into your room for a valise I left there. You see I occupied that suite until you came."
"Oh, indeed," surprised, "I noticed no other grip there."
"It is in the closet. That has always been my room whenever I visit here. I do not know why Natalie decided to change me this time—naturally wished to reserve the best for you, I presume."
"Very kind of her, I am sure. There is Sexton now."
"Which means breakfast is served. Shall we go in?"
The two men walked slowly up the gravelled path, leading to the side door. West's thoughts were busy with this new discovery. Had he inadvertently stumbled upon a clue? So he had occupied the room usually reserved for Percival Coolidge. Perhaps here was the explanation of the coming of his strange visitor. If so, then it was already clearly evident that whatever the plot might be, this fellow had a hand in it. West glanced aside at the face of his unconscious companion, deciding quickly to venture a chance shot.
"Were you expecting a caller last night?" he asked calmly.
Coolidge wheeled about, startled out of his self-control.