at I am sober?"

The house detective froze up tighter than ever, pivoted on his heel
and walked majestically away.

"What is the trouble, Mr. Smith?" asked the clerk deferentially, for
he was a better student of exteriors than John Reagan, twenty years a
precinct detective and retired to take up the haughtier role of
plain-clothes man in this most fastidious of metropolitan hostelries.

"No trouble at all, old chap," laughed the young man. "I lost my
little _capri_, and then by accident I discovered a stray member of
the herd belonging to yonder Ajax. Some day he's going to turn
into solid marble from the dome down, when you will have a most
extraordinary piece of statuary on your hands. By the way, have there
been any telephone messages for me? I am expecting a very important
one."

"I will see, Mr. Smith," said the clerk briskly, and began searching
through the pigeonholes. "Yes, Mr. Whitney Barnes called up--left word
he would call up again at 2 sharp. Will you be in your room, sir?"

"Do you think I'll be safe in my room?" asked the young man solemnly.

"Safe!" exclaimed the clerk. "Why, what do you mean, sir?"

"Oh, nothing, only Sir Ivory Ajax seems suspicious of me and might
take it into his head to come up and see if I hadn't murdered my
valet. That's all. I'm going to my room now to wait for Mr. Barnes's
telephone call. Kindly be sure that he is connected with my room."

"There _is_ something strange about that young fellow," murmured the
clerk as he watched the object of suspicion vanish into the lift.
"Though if he is a friend of Whitney Barnes," the clerk added after a
pause, "he ought to be all right. I think I'll look him up in the
Social Register."

Which he did--without enlightenment.

CHAPTER II.

MR. HOGG ENTERS THE LISTS.

Having arrived in the grill room of the Ritz coincident with a
devastating eruption of grapefruit, Mrs. Elvira Burton set out
forthwith to demonstrate that her unexpected advent was likewise
somewhat in the nature of a lemon. Even her smile was acid as she
spread out her rich sable furs and sat down at the table with her two
pretty nieces.

"I have just received a letter from Mr. Hogg, Helen," she began with a
rush, regardless of the anguish that was still evident in Helen's
lovely grapefruit bespattered eyes.

A twinge of something more than mere physical pain twisted the young
girl's features at the mention of the name--Hogg.

"Oh, auntie," she almost s