We rose to our feet, both pretty well winded. Then, to complicate the situation still more, Miss May appeared in the hallway. She stopped humming a light air, as she saw us, and turned deathly pale, as was her habit when alarmed. "Hush! Say nothing," whispered Wesson, to both of us at once. "Not a word, remember!" I thought it very wise of him and was more than willing to follow his advice. But Edgerly was not so easily quieted. "I caught this fellow creeping out of your chamber," he said, without mincing matters. "Yes," he added, as if he thought he might be contradicted, "there is the key he used in the lock now." Wesson looked strangely at me. "I have no doubt Mr. Camwell can explain his conduct," he said, and again I noticed the thoughtfulness he used, in referring to me by the name I had registered at Cook's office. "If he will consent to accompany me to my room for a few minutes I shall be glad to hear anything he has to say." Edgerly sneered again. "Camwell!" he echoed. "Why, that isn't even his right name. It will do to travel under, but when he signs checks he writes at the end the words, 'Donald Camran.'" "How do you know that?" asked Wesson, in a startled way. "You are making some grave charges." "He tells the truth," I interposed, anxious to end the scene. "The name he gave is my right one. Why I used the other is a private matter. I shall be glad to accede to your suggestion, Mr. Wesson, and hold an interview with you in private." "If you and Miss Carney will excuse us, then--" said Wesson, tentatively. "Miss Carney!" echoed Edgerly, with a laugh that made me half inclined to try conclusions with him again, now that we were less unevenly matched. "Miss Carney! Ha, ha!" Wesson was evidently watching us, prepared to interfere again, should it be necessary. He managed to end the affair by a display of finesse, asking Edgerly to meet him at two o'clock at the Sea View House, and saying pleasantly to Miss May that he would keep me but a few minutes. I saw the other two going in opposite directions before I followed the Bostonian into his room, which seemed the only thing I could do after what he had heard about me. "Well?" said Wesson, good naturedly, when he had closed the door and, at my suggestion, locked it. "You were in my room? Yes. Do you care to tell me why? I leave it entirely to you, Mr. Camran. If you choose to tell, well and good. If not I shall be perfectly satisfied." His courtesy was complete and, knowing what I did, seemed to me well advised. "Mr. Wesson," I said, "you have just saved me from a disagreeable and possible dangerous situation. That man had a loaded revolver--I had nothing. He is in the best of health; I, as you know, have recently recovered from a long illness. Had you appeared two minutes later it is no exaggeration to say you would probably have found a dead man on that floor." "In that case I am glad I came when I did," he replied, affably. "What was the row about?"