e of hers yesterday."
"Ah!"
"I don't feel right about it.... It's deuced queer. She isn't in
Alexandria."
"Ah!"
"If you say 'Ah' again, I hope you choke," said Billy violently to
himself. Aloud he continued, "I wired to the Khedivial and to all
the other hotels--there are just a few--and she isn't registered
there, and the Maynards are not, either."
"Possibly staying with friends," said Falconer indifferently. He
regarded his paper.
"Very few Americans have friends in Alexandria. However, that might
be so. But no ship has arrived from the Continent for three days,
and it seems mighty odd, if they were there three days ago, for them
to have wired at the last minute and had her tear off like that."
"I do not pretend to account for your compatriots," said the
sandy-haired young man.
Billy looked at him a minute. "There's no use in your being
disagreeable," he remarked. "I didn't thrust myself upon you because
I was attracted to you, at all. But I thought you were a sensible,
masculine human being who was interested in Miss Beecher's
whereabouts."
"I beg your pardon," said the other young man. "I am--I mean I am
interested--if you think there is anything really wrong. But I do
not see your point."
"Well, now, see if you can see this. I wired the consul there and
some other fellow at the port, and they wired back that no people of
the name of Maynard have arrived on any of the boats for the past
two weeks--that was as far back as they looked up. Now that's
_queer_."
"He could be mistaken--or they could have bought some one else's
accommodations--and that would account for the hastiness of their
plans," Falconer argued.
"But what train did she go on?"
"What train? Why, the express for Alexandria."
"That left at eight-thirty. Now why in the world would she rush away
in the middle of the afternoon, sending a telegram from the station
and leaving her packing undone, for an eight-thirty train?"
"Why I--I really can't say. She may have had errands----"
"Where did she have her dinner? Did she dine with friends at some of
the hotels? What friends has she here?"
"I really can't say as to that, either. I wasn't aware that she had
any."
"And where did she send that telegram from? There isn't a copy of
any such telegram at the offices I've been to--at Cook's or the
station. It might have been written on a telegraph blank and sent up
by messenger with the money--but why not come herself, with
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