circles we move in," Haviland was saying. "Do you know
who owns the controlling interest in this hotel? Surely you must know
or can guess. Think a moment. It's somebody you met over there and have
reason to remember."

A sound escaped, from the throat of Colonel Gray--not a cry, but rather
a gasp of amazement, or of rage.

"Aha!" Haviland grinned in triumph. "I thought--"

His guest leaned forward over the desk, with face twitching. Passion
had driven the blood from it, and his whole expression was one of such
hatred, such fury, the metamorphosis was so startling, that the hotel
man stiffened in his chair and stared upward in sudden amazement.

"_Nelson!_" Gray ejaculated. "Nelson! By God! So! He's _here_!"

During the moment that Haviland sat petrified, Gray turned his head
slowly, his blazing eyes searched the office as if expecting to
discover a presence concealed somewhere; they returned to the hotel
man's face, and he inquired:

"Well, where is he?"

Haviland stirred. "I don't know what you're talking about. Who's
Nelson?" After a second he exclaimed: "Good Lord! I thought I had a
pleasant surprise for you, and I was gracefully leading up to it,
but--I must have jazzed it all up. I was going to tell you that the
hotel and everything in it is yours."

"Eh?"

"Why, the Ajax is one of the Dietz chain! Herman Dietz of Cincinnati
owns it. He left for the North not an hour ago. At the last minute he
heard you were here--read this story in the paper--and had bellboys
scouring the place for you. You must know why he wanted to see you, and
what he said when he found that he'd have to leave before you came in."

Colonel Gray uttered another exclamation, this time an expletive of
deep relief. He fought with himself a moment, then murmured an apology.
"Sorry. You gave me a start-decidedly. Herman Dietz, eh? Well, well!
You made me think for a moment that I was a guest in the house of some
other--friend."

"_Friend?_"

"Exactly!" Gray was himself again now. He ran a loosening finger
between his collar and throat. "Quite a start, I'll admit, but--some of
my friends are great practical jokers. They have a way of jumping out
at me and crying 'Boo!' when I least expect it."

"Um-m! I see. Mr. Dietz told me that he was under lifelong obligation
to a certain Colonel Calvin Gray. Something to do with passports--"

"I once rendered him a slight favor."

"He doesn't regard the favor as 'slight.' He was about to be imp