In the narrow passage between the news-desk and the office, they bumped, inadvertently, into two men. There were mutual excuses, and the men went on.
An hour or so later, Macloud, having changed into his evening clothes, came into Croyden's room and found him down on his knees looking under the bureau, and swearing vigorously.
"Whee!" he said; "you _are_ a true pirate's heir! Old Parmenter, himself, couldn't do it better. What's the matter--lose something?"
"No, I didn't lose anything!" said Croyden sarcastically. "I'm saying my prayers."
"And incidentally searching for this, I suppose?" picking up a pearl stud from under the bed.
"And when you've sufficiently recovered your equanimity," Macloud went on, "you might let me see the aforesaid Parmenter's letter. I want to cogitate over it."
"It's in my wallet!" grinding in the stud--"my coat's on the chair, yonder."
"I don't find it!" said Macloud, searching. "What pocket is it in?"
"The inside breast pocket!" exclaimed Croyden, ramming the last stud home. "Where would you think it is--in the small change pocket?"
"I'll do it with----" He stopped. "Do you mean it isn't there?" he exclaimed.
"It isn't there!" said Macloud, holding up the coat.
Croyden's fingers flew to the breast pocket--empty! to the other pockets--no wallet! He seized his trousers; then his waistcoat--no wallet.
"Maybe you left it in Hampton?" said Macloud.
Croyden shook his head. "I had it when we left the Weston party--I felt it in my pocket, as I bent to tie Miss Cavendish's shoe."
"Then, it oughtn't to be difficult to find--it's lost between the Sampson Gate and the hotel. I'm going out to search, possibly in the fading light it has not been noticed. You telephone the office--and then join me, as quickly as you can get into your clothes."
He dashed out and down the stairs into the Exchange, passing midway, with the barest nod, the Weston party, nor pausing to answer the question Miss Cavendish flung after him.
Once on the rear piazza, however, he went slowly down the broad white steps to the broad brick walk--the electric lights were on, and he noted, with keen regret, how bright they made it--and thence to the Sampson Gate. It was vain! He inquired of the guard stationed there, and that, too, proving unavailing, left directions for its return, if found.