"The Duchess of Souspennier was staying here last week," he said.
"She left, I believe, on Thursday or Friday. Can you tell me
whether her baggage went through your hands?"

The man set down his hat upon a vacant chair, and turned over the
leaves of his book.

"Guess I can fix that for you," he remarked, running his forefinger
down one of the pages. "Here we are. The Duchess left on Friday,
and we checked her baggage through to Lenox by the New York, New
Haven & Hartford."

Mr. Sabin nodded.

"Thank you," he said. "She would probably take a carriage to the
station. It will be worth another ten dollars to you if you can
find me the man who drove her."

"Well, we ought to manage that for you," the man remarked
encouragingly. "It was one of Steve Hassell's carriages, I guess,
unless the lady took a hansom."

"Very good," Mr. Sabin said. "See if you can find him. Keep my
inquiries entirely to yourself. It will pay you."

"That's all right," the man remarked. "Don't you go to bed for
half-an-hour, and I guess you'll hear from me again."

Duson busied himself in the bed-chamber, Mr. Sabin sat motionless
in his easy chair. Soon there came a tap at the door. The porter