“Where,” gasped Robbins, “is Mr.—Mr.——” and then he remembered he didn’t know the name. “Where is the Living Skeleton?”
“He has gone to his room,” answered the Dragon, “he went early to- night, he wasn’t feeling well, I think.”
“What is the number of his room?”
“No. 40,” and the proprietor rang a loud, jangling bell, whereupon one of the chambermaids appeared. “Show this gentleman to No. 40.”
The girl preceded Robbins up the stairs. Once she looked over her shoulder, and said in a whisper, “Is he worse?”
“I don’t know,” answered Robbins, “that’s what I have come to see.”
At No. 40 the girl paused, and rapped lightly on the door panel. There was no response. She rapped again, this time louder. There was still no response.
“Try the door,” said Robbins.
“I am afraid to,” said the girl.
“Why?”