“Aside from the pleasure of having you dine with me, I am very glad of the privilege of telling you about my extraordinary experience,” he added, gazing across the table at Nick. “I want your opinion about it. I was tempted to call on you for advice immediately after it occurred, but there were many reasons why I did not do so. I have been terribly busy, you know, since the opening of the new Westgate six months ago, when the directors gave me entire management of the house. Busy, Mr. Carter, is no name for it.” “I can imagine so,” said Nick. “You certainly have a magnificent hotel here.” “There is none better in the city, nor one more generously patronized by wealthy and fashionable people,” said Clayton, with a quiet display of pride. “We are getting the cream not only of local society, but also that of the traveling public. We are almost constantly crowded. It’s an honor, indeed, to be the sole manager of such a house.” “I agree with you, Clayton, but you are the man for the position, I judge,” said Nick. “I guess the board of directors made no mistake.” “It was partly due, perhaps, to my owning quite a block of the stock,” Clayton replied, with a smile. “Now, to return to the main matter, I will tell you of my extraordinary experience.” “When did it occur, Clayton?” Nick inquired. “Three months ago, Mr. Carter, during the first three days in September.” “Three days, eh? It covered a considerable period.” “A period of apprehension and anxiety beyond description.” “Began at the beginning, Clayton, and tell me the whole business.” “I can tell you only what occurred. It will be up to you to determine why it was done and what it signified.” “I will endeavor to do so.” “As is my custom once a week,” Clayton began, “I had been out to Washington Heights to dine with my mother, who dislikes hotel life and for whom I bought an attractive place out there three years ago. Miss Langham was with me, the young lady to whom I am engaged. She is the only daughter of Gustavus Langham, president of the Century Trust Company.’ “I am acquainted with him,” Nick observed. “They have a suite here in the house,” Clayton added. “My only other companion was my chauffeur, Paul Hazen, who was driving my touring car. We started to return about ten o’clock. We had covered less than half a mile, and had arrived at a point in the road where there are no near dwellings, when we were held up by a touring car that stopped as we were approaching, and at such an angle across the road that we could not pass it.” “The occupants evidently had been waiting for you,” Chick remarked.