h he stood, and had passed
him so closely that he had felt her dress brush against him. Fortunately
he had seen them in time, and by throwing himself half into the
cloak-room, had rendered recognition impossible.

He walked now in the direction they had taken, till he came to the
polite colored man at an open door on the left, who was bowing people
into the breakfast room. Standing in the doorway, he looked about him
till his eye lighted upon his two friends, seated at a small table by
a distant window, with a black waiter, card in hand, bending over in
consultation with them.

Returning to the corridor, he made bold now to march up to the desk and
examine the register. The priest's name was not there. He found only the
brief entry, "Miss Madden, Octavius," written, not by her, but by Father
Forbes. On the line were two numbers in pencil, with an "and" between
them. An indirect question to one of the clerks helped him to an
explanation of this. When there were two numbers, it meant that the
guest in question had a parlor as well as a bedroom.

Here he drew a long, satisfied breath, and turned away. The first half
of his quest stood completed--and that much more fully and easily than
he had dared to hope. He could not but feel a certain new respect for
himself as a man of resource and energy. He had demonstrated that people
could not fool with him with impunity.

It remained to decide what he would do with his discovery, now that
it had been so satisfactorily made. As yet, he had given this hardly a
thought. Even now, it did not thrust itself forward as a thing demanding
instant attention. It was much more important, first of all, to get a
good breakfast. He had learned that there was another and less formal
eating-place, downstairs in the basement by the bar, with an entrance
from the street. He walked down by the inner stairway instead, feeling
himself already at home in the big hotel. He ordered an ample breakfast,
and came out while it was being served to wash and have his boots
blacked, and he gave the man a quarter of a dollar. His pockets were
filled with silver quarters, half-dollars, and dollars almost to a
burdensome point, and in his valise was a bag full of smaller change,
including many rolls of copper cents which Alice always counted and
packed up on Mondays. In the hurry of leaving he had brought with him
the church collections for the past two weeks. It occurred to him that
he must keep a strict accou