CHAPTER XXVIII
"So the darned rester's come back, has he?"
Crayford was the speaker. Dressed in a very thin suit, with a yellow linen coat on his arm, a pair of goggles in one hand, and a huge silver cigar-case, "suitably inscribed," in the other, he had just come into the smoking-room of the Excelsior Hotel.
"They gave you the note, then?" said Alston.
"Yaw."
Crayford laid the coat down, opened the cigar-case, and took out a huge Havana.
"I guess we'll let the car wait a bit, Alston," he said, lighting up. "Of course she telegraphed him to come."
"I'm quite sure she didn't," said Alston emphatically.
"Think I can't see?" observed Crayford drily.
He sat down and crossed his legs.