"I don't understand!" said the manager.

"If you will have the baggage, which, I imagine, is in the bedrooms,
examined, and give me your private ear for a moment, I'll endeavour to
explain as much as I know."

"Certainly, Mr. Harleston," the man replied; and, directing the others
to examine the baggage, he closed the door of the drawing-room.

"First tell me who occupied this suite, when it was taken, and when they
came," said Harleston.

"One moment," said the manager, and picking up the telephone he called
the office. "It was, the office says, occupied by a Mr. and Mrs.
Davidson of New York City, who took it this afternoon about five
o'clock. They had made no reservation for it."

"Now as to their baggage."

The manager bowed and went out--to return almost instantly, a puzzled
expression on his face.

"Two new and cheap suit cases, each containing a couple of bricks and
some waste paper," he reported.

"Yes," nodded Harleston, "I thought as much. Mr. Banks, you will confer
a favour on me, and possibly on the government, if you will be good
enough to let this affair pass unnoticed, at least for the time. I'll
pay for the broken table and its contents, and a proper charge for the
rooms for the few hours they've been occupied. I overturned the table.