The Great Secret | Page 7

man, a stranger to me, is nearly murdered. If any explanations or apologies are due at all, I consider that they are due to me."
Mr. Blumentein edged a little away.
"You should consider yourself exceedingly fortunate," he declared, "to be spared the inconvenience of a police inquiry. My directors dislike very much any publicity given to brawls of this sort in the hotel, or you might find yourself in a somewhat awkward position. I have nothing more to say about it."
He would have moved away, but I stood directly in front of him.
"It happens that I have," I said. "I am not a thief or an adventurer, and my bona-fides are easily established. I am a magistrate in two counties; Sir Gilbert Hardross, who is a patron of your restaurant, is my cousin, and I expect him here to call for me within half an hour. I am up in town to play for my County against the M.C.C. at Lord's; I am a person who is perfectly well known, and my word as to what happened last night will be readily accepted. If you do not alter your tone at once, I shall take a cab to Scotland Yard, and insist upon a complete investigation into the affairs of last night."
There was no doubt as to the effect of my words upon Mr. Blumentein. He was seriously perturbed, and wholly unable to conceal it.
"You can prove what you say, Mr. Courage, I suppose?" he remarked hesitatingly.
"Absolutely!" I answered; "look in this week's Graphic. You will see a photograph of me in the Medchestershire Cricket Team. Come into my room, and I will show you as many letters and papers as you please. Do you know that gentleman?"
"Certainly!" Mr. Blumentein answered, bowing low. "Good morning, Sir Charles!"
A young man in a flannel suit and straw hat sauntered up to us. He nodded condescendingly to the hotel manager, and shook hands with me.
"How are you, Courage?" he said. "I'm coming down to Lord's this afternoon to see the match."
He passed on. Mr. Blumentein was distinctly nervous.
"Will you do me the favor to come down to my room for a moment, Mr. Courage?" he begged. "I should like to speak to you in private."
I followed him down into his office. He closed the door, and set his hat down upon the desk.
"I have caused the strictest inquiries to be made, and I have been unable to obtain the slightest trace either of the man whom you say took shelter in your room, or the two others you spoke of. Under those circumstances, you will understand that your story did not sound very probable."
"Perhaps not," I admitted; "but I don't know what your night-porter could have been about, if he really saw nothing of them. I can give you a detailed description of all three if you like."
"One moment," Mr. Blumentein said, taking up pen and paper. "Now, if you please!"
I described the three men to the best of my ability, and Mr. Blumentein took down carefully all that I said.
"I will have the fullest inquiries made," he promised, "and let you know the result. In the meantime, I trust that you will consider the letter I wrote you this morning unwritten. You will doubtless prefer to leave the hotel after what has happened, but another time, I trust that we may be honored by your patronage."
I hesitated for a moment. It was clear that the man wanted to get rid of me. For the first time, the idea of remaining in the hotel occurred to me.
"I will consider the matter," I answered. "In the meantime, I hope you will have inquiries made at once. The man who took refuge in my room was in a terrible state of fright, and from what I saw of the other two, I am afraid you may find this a more serious affair than you have any idea of. By the bye, one of the two told me that they had engaged every room in that corridor. You may be able to trace him by that."
Mr. Blumentein shrugged his shoulders.
"That statement, at any rate, was a false one," he said. "All the rooms in the vicinity of yours were occupied by regular customers."
Now, in all probability, if Mr. Blumentein had looked me in the face when he made this last statement, I should have left the hotel within half an hour or so for good, and the whole episode, so far as I was concerned, would have been ended. But I could not help noticing a somewhat unaccountable nervousness in the man's manner, and it flashed into my mind suddenly that he knew a good deal more than he meant to tell me. He was keeping something back. The more I watched him, the more I felt