my own room on the Twelfth. This morning there is no
trace of her."

I went on to tell him a few more details, but the more I told him the
more he lifted his eyebrows.

"Done any drinking?" he asked me curtly.

"No."

"Certain?"

"Absolutely."

Walton looked at his crew. They burst into a chorus of, "Well, he _was_
steady on his feet," and "He didn't _seem_ under the influence," and a
lot of other statements, all generally indicating that for all they knew
I could have been gassed to the ears, but one of those rare guys who
don't show it.

The policeman smiled thinly. "Just why was this registered nurse
travelling with you?"

I gave them the excuse-type statement; the one about the accident and
that I felt that I was still a bit on the rocky side and so forth. About
all I did for that was to convince the policeman that I was not a stable
character. His attitude seemed to indicate that any man travelling with
a nurse must either be physically sick or maybe mentally out of tune.

Then with a sudden thought, I whirled on Johnny Olson. "Will you get my
car?" I asked him. He nodded after a nod from Walton. I said, "There's
plenty of evidence in my car. In the meantime, let's face one thing,
officer. I've been accused of spinning a yarn. I'd hardly be demanding
witnesses if I weren't telling the truth. I was standing beside Miss
Farrow when she signed the register, complete with the R.N. title. It's
too bad that hotels have taken to using card files instead of the old
registration book. Cards are so easy to misplace--"

Walton cut in angrily. "If that's an accusation, I'm inclined to see
that you make it in a court of law."

The policeman looked calm. "I'd take it easy, Mr. Cornell. Your story is
not corroborated. But the employees of the hotel bear one another out.
And from the record, it would appear that you were under the eyes of at
least two of them from the moment your car slowed down in front of the
main entrance up to the time that you were escorted to your room."

"I object to being accused of complicity in a kidnapping," put in the
assistant manager.

"I object to being accused of mental incompetence," I snapped. "Why do
we stand around accusing people back and forth when there's evidence if
you'll only uncover it."

We stood there glaring at one another. The air grew tense. The only ones
in the place who did not have chips on their shoulders were the
policeman and the certified stenographer, who