"No one here," murmured Radwin "Then we'll look through the billiard room, writing room and other places. Young Somers must be with the party somewhere."
Twenty minutes or more they spent in looking through the various public parts of the big hotel. Then they returned to the lobby. Radwin was limping, now, and looked uncomfortable.
"What's the matter?" questioned Jack.
"A nail in my shoe hurts me," lied the other, glibly, sinking into a chair. "Benson, I reckon I'll sit here a few minutes. Then I'll get to my room and call a bell-boy, to see if he can find some one to fix the shoe."
"Too bad," murmured Jack. "But say, I'll go back to the corner, and tell Hal, so he won't be standing on the corner all night."
With that Jack Benson walked briskly out. Up at the next corner, however, instead of finding Hal, the young skipper was accosted by two sailors in United States naval uniform.
"I reckon your name's Benson, messmate?" hailed one of the pair.
"I reckon it is," nodded Jack, looking sharply at them.
"Got a bit of bad news for you, then," added the first speaker. "It ain't so awful bad, though. One of your friends—Winter, I think his name was—"
"No; Somers," corrected the other sailor.