"Yes, the gentleman just registered."

"Would you mind describing him?"

"He was a tall, dark man as near as I can remember."

"And he carried a small casket in his hand?"

"Yes, and a gripsack."

"Oh yes," said the agent his face lighting up with satisfaction. "It is the man I mean--where is he now?"

"In his room."

"Did he say how long he intended to stay?"

"No, sir. He said nothing about his plans."

"Did he seem specially careful about the casket?"

"Yes, sir. He carried that in his hands, but let the servant carry up the gripsack."

"My friend," said the agent in an impressive tone, "I am going to surprise you."

The country clerk looked all curiosity.

"Is it about Mr. Wheeler?" he asked.

"Yes, the man is a thief. He stole the casket, which contains valuable jewelry, from my young friend here. We are here to demand a return of the property or to arrest him. Is there a policeman within call?"

"I can summon a constable."

"Do so, but don't breathe a word of what I have told you."

The clerk called a boy in from the street and gave him instructions in a low voice. He went at once on his errand, and in ten minutes a stout broad shouldered man made his appearance.

"This gentleman sent for you, Mr. Barlow," said the clerk.

"What can I do for you?" asked the constable.

"Help me to recover stolen property."

"That I will do with pleasure if you will tell me what you want me to do."

Adin Woods held a brief conference with the constable, then he led the way up stairs, followed immediately by Rodney, while the constable kept a little behind.

"His room is No. 9," said the bell boy.

The agent paused before the door of No. 9, and knocked.

"Come in!" said a voice.

The agent opened the door, and entered, accompanied by Rodney. A glance showed that the occupant answered the description given by the lady in the car.

Louis Wheeler changed color, for he recognized both the agent and Rodney.

"What is your business?" he asked in a tone which he tried to make indifferent.

"That," answered Woods, pointing to the jewel casket on the bureau.

It looked to him as if Wheeler, if that was his name, had been trying to open it.

"I don't understand."

"Then I will try to make things clear to you. You have, doubtless by accident" he emphasized the last word, "taken from the car a casket belonging to my young friend here."

"You are mistaken, sir," said Wheeler with brazen hardihood. "That casket belongs to me."

"Indeed. What does it contain?"

"I fail to see how that is any of your business," returned Wheeler, determined, if possible, to bluff off his visitors.

"I admire your cheek, sir. I really do. But I am too old a traveler to be taken in by such tricks. I propose to have that casket."

"Well, sir, you are the most impudent thief and burglar I ever met. You break into a gentleman's room, and undertake to carry off his private property. Unless you go out at once, I will have you arrested."

"That you can do very readily, for I have an officer within call."

Louis Wheeler changed color. He began to see that the situation was getting serious.

"There is a great mistake here," he said.

"I agree with you."

The agent went to the door, and called "Constable Barlow."

The constable promptly presented himself.

"Do you want me, sir?" he asked.

"That depends on this gentleman here. If he will peacefully restore to my young friend here yonder jewel casket I am willing to let him go.

Otherwise--" and he glanced at Wheeler significantly.

"Perhaps I have made a mistake," admitted the thief. "I had a casket exactly like this. Possibly I have taken the wrong one."

"I have the key to the casket here," said Rodney, "and I can tell you without opening it what it contains."

"What did yours contain?" asked the agent.