"Wanted at the telephone, sir," the bell-hop told him.
He stepped into a booth and the voice of Rose came excited and tremulous. It was less than ten minutes since he had left her at the door of her boarding-house.
"Something's happened, Kirby. Can you come here—right away?" she begged. Then, unable to keep back any longer the cry of her heart, she broke out with her tidings. "Esther's gone."
"Gone where?" he asked.
"I don't know. She left a letter for me. If you'll come to the house—Or shall I meet you downtown?"
"I'll come. Be there in five minutes."
He more than kept his word. Catching a car on the run at the nearest corner, he dropped from it as it crossed Broadway and walked to Cherokee.
Rose opened the house door when he rang the bell and drew him into the parlor. With a catch of the breath she blurted out again the news.
"She was gone when I got home. I found—this letter." Her eyes sought his for comfort. He read what Esther had written.
I can't stand it any longer, dearest. I'm going away where I won't disgrace you. Don't look for me. I'll be taken care of till—afterward.