“Nothing doing,” was the clerk’s answer. “We’re somewhat alarmed, Mr. Mortimer. We don’t see how he could have left his room without the knowledge of the floor clerk.” Nick looked about and saw there was no one else within earshot. He leaned confidentially over the desk. “I know how he left the building,” he told the clerk; “and although I don’t feel at liberty to tell you the whole story, I’ll say this much: I’m Nicholas Carter, not Thomas Mortimer, and I have been keeping an eye on Stone and Crawford—for their good.” “You don’t mean it!” cried the clerk, eying Nick’s make-up inquiringly. “I hope they haven’t done anything——” “Nothing of that sort,” Nick assured him quickly. “It’s a long story, and the time hasn’t come to tell it. Just keep it dark, therefore. I revealed my identity to your house detective last night, but I don’t want it to be generally known that I’ve been here in disguise.” “Trust me, Mr. Carter; I understand. Is Mr. Crawford really ill, though?” Nick gave a slow wink. “No, he isn’t,” he admitted. “I put that one over on you for reasons of my own, and I want you to pass the story on to any one who inquires after him. He won’t be back for a few days, but you’re to hold his room for him. I’ll be responsible.” “And Mr. Stone?” “I think I know where to find him, and I’m going to trace him without delay. Something may have happened to him, but nothing very serious, I’m sure. I’m going to give up my room now, since there doesn’t seem to be anything else I can do here. By the way, I have reason to believe that the young man who phoned for me and called here later is one of my assistants. If he asks for me again after I leave, try to find out his identity without letting the cat out of the bag, and if he satisfies you, tell him I’ve gone home.” It was after two o’clock when Nick arrived at the house uptown, where he inquired first for Chick and then for Patsy Garvan. His housekeeper informed him that Chick was in Providence, and that Patsy had seemed very anxious to reach his fellow assistant or his chief that morning. “You don’t know why?” “No, sir, I don’t; but I think it is something important. He’s been out every night lately, and goodness knows what time he’s been coming in. He slept until half past eleven this morning, and that’s why he missed Mr. Chick.” “Did he say where he was going?” “No, sir.”