In a bound, Harleston reached the door; it should, as he knew, open from
within by a turn of the knob. But it was double-locked on the inside and
the key was missing.

He whirled--just in time to see the last of the mixed trio disappear
into the drawing-room, and the door snap shut behind them.

He sped across and flung himself against it--it was locked.

Meanwhile the pounding on the corridor door went on.

"Try another door!" Harleston shouted.

But by reason of the heavy door and the din, some time elapsed before he
could attract the attention of those in the corridor and make himself
understood. Then more time was consumed in getting the floor-maid with
the pass-key to the room adjoining the drawing-room of the suite.

By that time, the manager of the hotel had come up and put himself at
the head of the relief; and he was not in the best of temper when he
entered and saw the debris of the bric-à-brac and the table.

"What is the meaning of--" he demanded--then he recognized Harleston and
stopped--"I beg your pardon, Mr. Harleston! I didn't know that you were
here, sir; this apartment was occupied by--"

"Two men and a woman," Harleston supplied. "Well, it's been vacated by
them in deference to me."