"
"Lemme go," expostulated the centre-rush. "Locke's a good fellow
and this man wants to trim him."
"No, no! Sit down!" Ringold obeyed. "If he wants to join us, we'll
have him come up."
"What?" cried Locke, leaping nervously from his chair. "Don't do
that. I want to get out of here."
"Not a bit like it." Kirk's eyes were sparkling. "We'll give this
fellow the third degree and find out who his pals are."
"Grand idea!" Higgins seconded with enthusiasm. "Grand!"
"Hold on! I can't do that. I've got to sail at ten o'clock. I
don't dare get into trouble, don't you understand? It's
important." Locke seemed in an extraordinary panic.
"Oh, we'll see that you catch your boat all right," Kirk assured
him; and then before the other could interfere he rang for the
waiter.
"Give that chap your coat and apron," he ordered, when the
attendant answered, "and when I ring next send him up. Pass the
word to Padden and the others not to notice any little
disturbance. I'll answer for results."
"I'm going to get out," cried the man from St. Louis. "He mustn't
see me."
"He'll see you sure if you leave now. You'll have to pass him.
Stick here. We'll have some fun."
The white-faced man sank back into his chair, while Anthony
directed sharply:
"Now, gentlemen, be seated.
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