"'Never'—'ever'—no, that isn't it but it's something like that. 'Seldom'—that's it—no it isn't either—'Seldon,' that's it. 'Thomas Seldon.' I sized him up for a queer one."
"I'll have to get a look at him," the stout man went on. "I don't know as we have any call for him, but it's best to be on the safe side."
Ned felt his knees beginning to shake. He wondered who the big man might be. Just then the youthful porter sauntered toward him. Ned had come to a halt half way up the lobby of the hotel.
"Pipe off that guy?" asked the boy in a friendly whisper, with a nod at the stout man. Ned understood the question to mean "Do you know who that man is?" and he answered that he did not.
"One of the detectives from the Central Office. The sleuths come here same as at other hotels, every once in a while, to see if anybody they want might happen to be on hand. Guess he won't land anybody this time, though, about a week ago—"
But Ned did not stop to listen. The stairway was in front of him, and he could get to his room without the clerk or the detective seeing him.
As he started up the stairs, intending to go to
