"Can you tell me," he asked, leaning over the counter and addressing the carefully groomed clerk, "If there is a gentleman named Tsan Ti staying at this hotel?"
"Come again, please," was the answer. "What was that name?"
"Tsan Ti."
"Where's he from?"
"Canton, China."
"Wears a black cap and a yellow kimono," put in Joe. "Button in the cap—red button. He's the high old Whoop-a-gamus that bossed the temple of What-you-call-um and let the Eye of Buddha get away from him. He must be here."
"Such jocosity is out of place," said the clerk chillingly.
"Sufferin' zero!" muttered McGlory. "I reckon his home ranch is the North Pole. What's jocosity, Matt?"
"Then Tsan Ti isn't here?" asked Matt.
"Certainly not. You might try the Hotel Kaaterskill."