Indiscretions of Archie | Page 5

to
a liner. The idea was that I might get hold of something in America--"

He got hold of Mr. Brewster's coat-button, and was again shaken off.
"Between ourselves, I've never done anything much in England, and I
fancy the family were getting a bit fed. At any rate, they sent me over
here--"
Mr. Brewster disentangled himself for the third time.
"I would prefer to postpone the story of your life," he said coldly, "and
be informed what is your specific complaint against the Hotel
Cosmopolis."
"Of course, yes. The jolly old hotel. I'm coming to that. Well, it was
like this. A chappie on the boat told me that this was the best place to
stop at in New York--"
"He was quite right," said Mr. Brewster.
"Was he, by Jove! Well, all I can say, then, is that the other New York
hotels must be pretty mouldy, if this is the best of the lot! I took a room
here last night," said Archie quivering with self-pity, "and there was a
beastly tap outside somewhere which went drip-drip- drip all night and
kept me awake."
Mr. Brewster's annoyance deepened. He felt that a chink had been
found in his armour. Not even the most paternal hotel-proprietor can
keep an eye on every tap in his establishment.
"Drip-drip-drip!" repeated Archie firmly. "And I put my boots outside
the door when I went to bed, and this morning they hadn't been touched.
I give you my solemn word! Not touched."
"Naturally," said Mr. Brewster. "My employes are honest"
"But I wanted them cleaned, dash it!"
"There is a shoe-shining parlour in the basement. At the Cosmopolis
shoes left outside bedroom doors are not cleaned."

"Then I think the Cosmopolis is a bally rotten hotel!"
Mr. Brewster's compact frame quivered. The unforgivable insult had
been offered. Question the legitimacy of Mr. Brewster's parentage,
knock Mr. Brewster down and walk on his face with spiked shoes, and
you did not irremediably close all avenues to a peaceful settlement. But
make a remark like that about his hotel, and war was definitely
declared.
"In that case," he said, stiffening, "I must ask you to give up your
room."
"I'm going to give it up! I wouldn't stay in the bally place another
minute."
Mr. Brewster walked away, and Archie charged round to the cashier's
desk to get his bill. It had been his intention in any case, though for
dramatic purposes he concealed it from his adversary, to leave the hotel
that morning. One of the letters of introduction which he had brought
over from England had resulted in an invitation from a Mrs. van Tuyl
to her house-party at Miami, and he had decided to go there at once.
"Well," mused Archie, on his way to the station, "one thing's certain.
I'll never set foot in THAT bally place again!"
But nothing in this world is certain.
CHAPTER II
A SHOCK FOR MR. BREWSTER
Mr. Daniel Brewster sat in his luxurious suite at the Cosmopolis,
smoking one of his admirable cigars and chatting with his old friend,
Professor Binstead. A stranger who had only encountered Mr. Brewster
in the lobby of the hotel would have been surprised at the appearance of
his sitting-room, for it had none of the rugged simplicity which was the
keynote of its owner's personal appearance. Daniel Brewster was a man
with a hobby, He was what Parker, his valet, termed a connoozer. His

educated taste in Art was one of the things which went to make the
Cosmopolis different from and superior to other New York hotels. He
had personally selected the tapestries in the dining-room and the
various paintings throughout the building. And in his private capacity
he was an enthusiastic collector of things which Professor Binstead,
whose tastes lay in the same direction, would have stolen without a
twinge of conscience if he could have got the chance.
The professor, a small man of middle age who wore tortoiseshell-
rimmed spectacles, flitted covetously about the room, inspecting its
treasures with a glistening eye. In a corner, Parker, a grave, lean
individual, bent over the chafing-dish, in which he was preparing for
his employer and his guest their simple lunch.
"Brewster," said Professor Binstead, pausing at the mantelpiece.
Mr. Brewster looked up amiably. He was in placid mood to-day. Two
weeks and more had passed since the meeting with Archie recorded in
the previous chapter, and he had been able to dismiss that disturbing
affair from his mind. Since then, everything had gone splendidly with
Daniel Brewster, for he had just accomplished his ambition of the
moment by completing the negotiations for the purchase of a site
further down-town, on which he proposed to erect a new hotel. He
liked building hotels. He had the Cosmopolis, his first-born,