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Timmons, however, merely came in searching for the Chinaman, and not finding the latter immediately, retired again to the office, without even addressing his guest, who was busily eating. Sadie peered in once more and, seeing all was clear, crossed over beside Westcott. "Well, as I was sayin'," she resumed, "I thought I heard a noise outside, an' got up an' went to the winder.
Eager for the greeting, which he felt assured awaited him, he strode through the open door into the office. The room was vacant, but as he crossed the floor toward the desk the proprietor entered through the opening leading into the barroom beyond. Timmons had quite evidently been drinking more than usual the effect being largely disclosed by loquacity of speech.
You ain't too nice to partake of a cocktail, are you? Good! Then we'll have one. What's the hotelkeeper's name?" "Timmons." "Do you suppose he'd come up if I pounded on the floor?" Miss Donovan slipped off the bed. "I don't believe he is in the office. He went up the street just before dark. You light the lamp while I'll see if I can find the Chinaman out in the hall."
At the desk, wide-eyed with excitement, Miss Donovan took a service-worn pen proffered by landlord Pete Timmons, whose grey whiskers were as unkempt as his hotel, and registered her name. "A telegram came to-day for you, ma'am," Peter said in a cracked voice, and tossed it over. Miss Donovan tore it open. It was from Farriss. It read: If any clues, advise immediately. Willis digging hard.
Yer see us help sleep over the kitchen, an' 'bout one o'clock I woke up here comes Timmons; he mustn't see me talkin' ter yer." She flicked her napkin over the table, picked up an emptied dish and vanished through the swinging-doors.
There was never yet a valet who wouldn't steal the trousers off a bronze statue, and I'll lift the ban on crooked work here long enough for Timmons to call at your lodgings and either by violence or corruption secure your trunk. No! Not a cent. Remember that you are my guest." The trunk was in Archie's room in just one hour.
Stella opened the door, and the eyes of the two met. "The Chinaman seems to have gone home," the mistress of the room said quietly. "At least he is not on this floor or in the office, and I could see nothing of Timmons anywhere." "Then I suppose we don't drink," complained Miss La Rue. "Well, I might as well go to bed. There ain't much else to do in this jay town."
Realising the nature of that conversation, Lacy naturally anticipated being sought the very moment Westcott came to town. That was what this meant. All right, he would hunt Lacy as soon as he was ready to do so; and, as Timmons suggested, would go "heeled." But the girl? What had really become of the girl?
The task was sufficiently strenuous to require all the breath Timmons possessed, and he managed to repress his eager curiosity until the wounded man had been attended to. Once in the hall, however, and the door closed, he could no longer control himself. "Now see yere, Jim Westcott," he panted, one hand gripping the stair-rail.
Timmons; she is actually shaking her fist at me. When I speak I always keep my eye on somebody in the crowd. I'll watch that woman to-night, and if I can win her over I may influence some of the rest." Therewith Dolly rose and went to the platform. Silence fell on the room as she made a pretty, hesitating bow.
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