Nick had already signed the waiter’s slip, but had been toying with a little fruit. He rose and followed Stone, but without any sign of hurrying. His man used the stairs, and the detective followed in the elevator, reaching the second floor ahead of his quarry. Nick’s room, number twenty, occupied an angle of the corridor, its door being almost opposite the elevator, while those leading to the rooms occupied by Stone and Crawford were just around the corner. When the detective entered his room, he left his door slightly ajar, and a few moments later he heard Stone’s footsteps, as the miner passed and went on round the angle. Nick gently closed his door and crossed his room to the window, without turning on the lights. The window looked out into a big courtyard of the Windermere, and from it, by glancing sharply to his right, Nick could see the window of Crawford’s bedroom, and also that of Stone’s, both of which were not on a line with his, but at right angles. Peering out through the darkness, he saw a light leap up suddenly in Stone’s room, and presently the shadow of a man appeared on the shade. The moving shadowgraph was significant. The detective inferred from Stone’s actions that he must be putting on a light overcoat. “He seems to be going out again,” the detective commented mentally. “And in that case, I’d better go ahead again.” He stepped back from the window, hurriedly snapped on the electric lights, and secured his own hat and walking stick. That done, he left the room, locked the door behind him, and made for the stairs. No one followed, and he concluded that something had delayed Stone. The detective slowed down and leisurely entered the lobby. He seated himself there after buying a paper at the news stand; but ten minutes passed without any sign of James Stone. “What is keeping him?” he wondered. “Can it be that he sneaked out through one of the other entrances?” The thought was a disagreeable one, and Nick decided to put it to the test at once, without further delay. He climbed the stairs once more, hurriedly entered his own room, and crossed to the window. A glance to the right told him that his suspicion was well founded. There was no light in Stone’s room now, and it was obvious that the tall miner had left. CHAPTER XVIII. ON THE FIRE ESCAPE. An exclamation of annoyance broke from Nick Carter’s lips. “I didn’t give him credit for so much cunning,” he thought. “But hanged if I see why he should have felt it necessary to skulk away in that fashion. It can’t be possible that he suspects me, and I don’t know of any reason why Crawford should not know of his going out.”