LITERARY INNKEEPER'S ADVENTURE
Ten minutes later the innkeeper slipped into the room, his eyes bright with excitement.
"There's two chaps below looking for you," he whispered. "They're in the dining-room having whiskys and sodas. They asked about you and said they had hoped to meet you here. Oh I and they described you jolly well, down to your boots and shirt I told them you had been here last night and had gone off on a motor bicycle this morning, and one of the chaps swore like a navvy."
I made him tell me what they looked like. One was a dark-eyed, thin fellow with bushy eyebrows, the other was always smiling and lisped in his talk. Neither was any kind of foreigner; on this my young friend was positive.
I took a bit of paper and wrote these words in German as if they were part of a letter:
". . . Black Stone. Scudder had got on to this, but he could not act for a fortnight. I doubt if I can do any good now, especially as Karolides is uncertain about his plans. But if Mr. T. advises I will do the best I . . ."
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