"Blessed if I know," replies the deputy marshal.
"The Semiramis, I'll wager $4 to a nickel," mutters Ashley, as he thanks the marshal and goes ashore.
CHAPTER XXX.
ON TO FAIR CUBA.
"There are only two bits of evidence needed to complete
my moral conviction that I am the only person
connected with the Raymond tragedy who is not in
Cuba or on his way thither," remarks Ashley, loquitur, as
he boards a cross-town car. "One is the assurance that
Cyrus Felton and Miss Hathaway have left the St. James
Hotel with no intention of an immediate return; the
other, the knowledge that Phillip Van Zandt has closed
his quarters in the Wyoming flats for an indefinite period.
I believe I will try the St. James first."
He does. The clerk smiles benignly upon him when he inquires for the Vermonters. "Gone, Jack; but you were not forgotten," he says. "The day clerk turned this over to me," extracting a note from the letter rack.
"Thank you, Ed," acknowledges Ashley. He tears open the note and reads:
"Dear Mr. Ashley: I regret very much that circumstances
have made it necessary to postpone indefinitely the luncheon
for this afternoon at 1, to which I had looked forward with
much pleasure. We have just learned that in order to reach
Cuba we must sail on the City of Havana, which leaves New
York at 11 o'clock to-day. With many thanks for your kindnesses,
believe me, sincerely yours,
Louise Hathaway."
"Far from enlightening me, this note only plunges me
deeper in the fog," thinks Ashley, sniffing the faint odor
of violet that clings to the dainty stationery. "She asserts
here that she is going to Cuba on the City of Havana,
yet I discover her aboard the Semiramis. At any rate
