“Please don’t tell about this just at present,” he requested. “It’s all most important! We shall not only recover Mr. Webb very soon now but bring his abductor to justice and punishment, and also find Miss Powell, and oh, maybe it will all be in time for the wedding.”
“What shall I do with this?” and Miss Webb held out the jewel box helplessly.
“Oh,—put it—haven’t you a safe?”
“No.”
“Well, lock it up in your room somewhere. Nobody knows you have it so there’s no danger of theft. Hide it securely.”
And with a brief word of good-bye Coe ran downstairs and out of doors.
First of all, he went to Fenn Whiting’s home. Only to be told that that gentleman was not at home. He was expected any minute, however, and Coe waited. This time he did not go up to Whiting’s rooms, but waited down in the lobby.
But his wait was in vain. He grew restless, and began to cast about in his mind how to find the man he sought. He telephoned various clubs and homes of friends, and some business houses but not a word of information could he get concerning Mr. Whiting.
At last, in hopeless despair he went away, after leaving word to telephone him as soon as Mr. Whiting came home.
“I do have the hardest stunts to do,” poor Coley Coe told himself.