"See!" cried Barnes, excitedly, putting his finger on the name "Miss
Jones." "She's in room 32,--next to his. By gad, Sprouse, do you
suppose he knows that she is here? Would the dog undertake anything--"
"You may be sure he doesn't know she's here, or you either, for that
matter. The country's full of Joneses and Barneses. Go on upstairs.
Leave everything to me."
He strolled away as the clerk came shuffling down the steps. As Barnes
mounted them, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Sprouse take up a
suitcase near the door and return to the desk, evidently for the
purpose of engaging a room for the night.
Before going to his room, he strode lightly down the hall in the
direction of room 30. There was no light in the transom. Stepping
close to the door, he listened intently for sounds from within. He
started back almost instantly. The occupant was snoring with extreme
heartiness.
A glance revealed a light in the transom of room 32. As he looked,
however, it disappeared. Abashed, he turned and went swiftly away. She
was going to bed. He felt like a snooping, despicable "peeping Tom"
caught in the act.
He had been in his room for twenty minutes before he heard the tapping
on his door.
Pages:
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367