all the folks in the dining-sal-oon, there will not be a guest in the hotel unaccounted for except yourself, Mr. Featherson."
"What do you mean?" asked my employer hotly.
"What I say, sir," replied the American. "All the guests came down from their bedrooms dressed for dinner, so there has not been any opportunity for hiding six fairly bulky cases, has there? But where's the little missie?"
"She's gone in. This wretched business has upset her," said I, breaking in upon the conversation, not relishing the tone which it had taken between the other two.
The American glanced quickly at Mr. Featherson, who had pushed a little ahead of us, when suddenly he stumbled and fell heavily to the ground.
I rushed forward to pick him up.
"Curse it, I've strained my ankle again," he said. "How deuced unfortunate. I've done it about four times already, and it means no walking for me for three or four days at the least. I say, Mr. Rowe, would you be kind enough to run into the hotel, and ask two strong waiters to bring along a chair to carry me inside? I daren't put my foot to the ground."
