Upon reaching his room, Barnes permitted the suppressed emotion to
escape his lips in the shape of a soft whistle, which if it could have
been translated into words would have said: "By Gad, why haven't I
thought of it before? He sent out the warning that Roon and Paul were
on the way! And I'd like to bet my last dollar that some one at Green
Fancy had the other end of the wire."
Mr. Rushcroft stalked majestically into his room while he was shaving,
without taking the trouble to knock at the door, and in his most
impressive manner announced that if there was another hostelry within
reasonable distance he would move himself, his luggage and his entire
company out of Putnam Jones's incomprehensible house.
"Why, sir," he declared, "the man is not only a knave but a fool. He
flatly declines the prodigious offer I have made for the corner rooms
at the end of the corridor. In fact, he refuses to transfer my
daughter and me from our present quarters into what might be called
the royal suite if one were disposed to be facetious. The confounded
blockhead insists on seeing the colour of my money in advance." He sat
down on the edge of the bed, dejectedly. "My daughter, perversity
personified, takes the extraordinary stand that the wretch is right.
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