counter, where he next went. An intimate word or two and she was
in a flutter. She sidetracked her chewing gum, completely ignored
her other customers, and helped him select a handful of her
choicest sixty-cent Havanas. When he finally decided to have her
send the rest of the box of fifty up to his room and signed for
them, she considered the transaction a tribute to her beauty
rather than to her ability as a saleswoman. Her admiring eyes
followed him clear across the lobby.

Even the blase bell-captain, by virtue of his calling a person of
few enthusiasms and no illusions, edged up to the desk and
inquired the name of the distinguished stranger "from the No'th."

Gray appeared to know exactly what he wanted to do, for he stopped
at the telephone booths, inquired the number of the leading
afternoon newspaper, and put in a call for it. When it came
through he asked for the city editor. He closed the sound-proof
door before voicing his message, then he began, rapidly:

"City editor? Well, I'm from the Ajax Hotel, and I have a tip for
you. I'm one of the room clerks. Listen! Calvin Gray is registered
here--got in last night, on gum shoes.... Gray! _Calvin Gray_!
Better shoot a reporter around and get a story.... You _don't_?
Well, other people know him. He's a character--globe trotter,
soldier of fortune, financier. He's been everywhere and done
everything, and you can get a great story if you've got a man
clever enough to make him talk. But he won't loosen easily....
Oil, I suppose, but--... Sure! Under cover. Mystery stuff! Another
big syndicate probably.... Oh, that's all right. I'm an old
newspaper man myself. Don't mention it."