"Excuse me, sir"—the boy was frightened—"excuse me, sir; but I saw the gentleman put a note in!"
"Did you!" laughed the American, readily perceiving that whoever the joker might be the boy was innocent of complicity. "You mean, you thought you did! See here, what was he like?"
The boy described Sheard, and described him so aptly that he was recognised.
"That's Sheard," muttered the recipient of the empty envelope. "It's Sheard, sure! Right oh! I'll ring him up at the office in a minute and see what sort of game he's playing. Here boy, stick that in your pocket; you might make a descriptive writer, but you'll never shine at sleight of hand! You didn't watch that envelope half close enough!"
Thus, the man to whom the note was addressed. Let us glance at Mr. Alden again.
Having effected the substitution with the ease of a David Devant, he hastened to a quiet corner to inspect his haul. He was not unduly elated. He had been prompt and clever, but in justice to him, it must be admitted that he was a clever man. Therefore he regarded the incident merely as part of the day's work. His success wrought no quickening of the pulse.
In a little palmy balcony which overlooked the lobby he took the envelope from his pocket. It bore the inscription:
Radley Gale, Esq.
Quietly, his cheroot stuck in a corner of his mouth, he opened it—tearing the end off as all Americans do. He pulled out the scribbled note, and read as follows:
"My Dear Gale,—Don't forget that we're expecting your wife and yourself along about 7. I will say no more as I rather think an impudent American detective (?) is going to purloin this note.