“Well,” Mr. Havens said, breaking a rather oppressive silence, “are we all ready for the roof of the world to-morrow?”
“Will you go with us, Sam?” asked Mr. Havens.
No more was said on the subject at that time, yet all saw by the expression on the tramp’s face how grateful he was for this new chance in life which Mr. Havens had given him.
“Jerusalem!” exclaimed Jimmie in a moment, jumping to his feet and rushing toward the door. “I’ve forgotten something!”
“Important? I should say so!” replied Jimmie. “I forgot to eat my dinner, and I haven’t had any supper yet!”
“How did you come to do it?” asked Mellen.
“I didn’t wake up!” was the reply. “And now,” the boy went on, “you see I’ve got to go and eat two meals all at once.”
“I’ll eat one of them for you,” suggested Sam.
“And I’ll eat the other!” volunteered Ben.
“Yes you will,” grinned Jimmie. “I don’t need any help when it comes to supplying the region under my belt with provisions.”
The boys hustled away to the dining-room, it being then about seven o’clock, while Mr. Havens and Mellen hastened back to the manager’s office.
Passing through the public lobby, the manager entered his private room and opened a sheaf of telegrams lying on the table.
One of the messages was for Mr. Havens. He read it carefully, twice over, and then turned a startled face toward the manager.
The manager glanced at the millionaire’s startled face for a moment and then asked, his voice showing sympathy rather than curiosity:
The millionaire studied over the telegram for a moment and then laid it down in front of the manager.
The message was brief and ran as follows:
“Ralph Hubbard murdered last night! Private key to deposit box A missing from his desk!”
“Except for the information that some one has been murdered,” Mellen said, restoring the telegram to its owner, “this means little or nothing to me. I don’t think I ever knew Ralph Hubbard!”
“Ralph Hubbard,” replied the millionaire gravely, “was my private secretary at the office of the Invincible Trust Company, New York. All the papers and information collected concerning the search for Milo Redfern passed through his hands. In fact, the letter purporting to have been written and mailed on the lower East Side of New York was addressed to him personally, but in my care.”