“Both are wealthy widows,” said Vernon. “One is seventy years old, and she has only a maid companion. The other has two daughters, who occupy the same suite with her. Her rooms are on the ninth floor.” “Any man living with either of them?” “No.” “I can safely drop them then, all right,” thought Patsy. “What about this man Hanaford, of London?” “He is an American representative of several big English woolen mills,” said Vernon. “I have known him for a long time. He is about sixty years old and is a man of unquestionable integrity.” “What about the last, then?” questioned Patsy, assured as to the English agent. “By Jove, he’s the man the chief saw in Mademoiselle Falloni’s suite this morning--Doctor David Guelpa.” “Yes, the same,” nodded Vernon. “I am not so sure about him.” “What do you know about him?” “Very little. In fact, Garvan, nothing positively reliable. He came here on the fifth of September, as you see, with a valet named John Draper.” “Two days after Clayton’s abduction and liberation,” thought Patsy, with growing suspicion. “He stated that he was a Hungarian physician, a throat specialist, and that he might remain indefinitely in New York,” Vernon continued. “He took an expensive suite, which he since has occupied with his valet, and a few days later he opened offices in Fifth Avenue, which he still retains. I don’t know how much business he does, Garvan, but seems to have plenty of money.” “Is a social man?” “Not at all. He is very reserved.” “What are his office hours? Is he usually here at eleven o’clock in the morning?” asked Patsy, quick to suspect his presence in the hotel on that particular morning. “No, not ordinarily,” said Vernon. “He may have been detained this morning.” “It’s very obvious that he was here, all right,” Patsy said dryly. “Does he have any mail?” “No, none. I suppose it goes to his office.” “Does he receive any visitors?” “Very few. There are two men who occasionally come here to see him.” “Do you know them?” “No.” “Where is his office?” “Less than ten minutes’ walk from here,” said Vernon. “I will look up the number for you.” “Never mind it, Vernon, at present,” said Patsy, detaining him. “On what floor is Doctor Guelpa’s suite?” “The fourth.” “Is it near the stairway, or elevator?” “It adjoins the side stairway.” “The one leading down to the corridor adjoining Clayton’s private office?” “Yes.” “H’m, is that so?” Patsy muttered. “This looks very much as if I had hit a promising trail.” “You mean----” “Never mind what I mean, Vernon, and be sure you don’t lisp a word of this, nor look at Doctor Guelpa as if you had any distrust,” cautioned Patsy. “Is his suite on the same floor as that of Mademoiselle Falloni?” “Yes, and in the same corridor.” “What’s the number?” Vernon glanced at a schedule on the bookkeeper’s desk and quickly informed him, Patsy mentally retaining the number. “Have you seen Doctor Guelpa this evening?” he then inquired.