Arrived at the station, Quin thrust a bill into the driver's hand and dashed down the steps to the lower level. In answer to his frenzied inquiry he was told that the Express had come in two hours before and that the passengers had probably all left the sleeper by this time. Nothing daunted, he rushed out to the tracks and accosted a porter who was sweeping out the rear coach. "Yas, sir, this is it," answered the negro. "Young lady? Yas, sir; there was five or six of 'em on board last night. Pretty? Yas, sir, they was all pretty--all but one, and she wasn't so bad looking." "Did one of them get a telegram in the night or this morning?" The porter's face brightened. "Yas, sir. Boy come through soon as we got in. Had a wire for young lady in lower six." "Do you know what time she left the car?" "About half hour ago, I should say. Party she was expecting to meet her didn't turn up, and I had to git her a red-cap to carry her suit-case. Thanky, sir." Quin tore back to the station and dashed through the waiting-room, the dining-room, the baggage-room. He was on the point of going out to the taxi-stand and interrogating each driver in turn, when his eyes were caught by a smart suit-case that lay unattended on one of the seats. It bore the inscription "E.M.B.--Ky." In his sudden relief he could have snatched it up and embraced it. But where was Eleanor? For five interminable minutes he stood guard over her property, watching every exit and entrance, and pacing the floor in his impatience. Suddenly an idea occurred to him, and, cursing himself for his stupidity, he strode over to the telephone-booths. Eleanor was in the corner one, the receiver at her ear, evidently waiting for her call. As Quin flung upon the door she turned and faced him in defiant surprise. "What are you doing here?" she demanded indignantly. "Did grandmother send you?" "No; she doesn't know I'm here." Eleanor turned nervously to the telephone. "Hello! I can't understand you. Put--what? Oh! I forgot. Wait a minute----" Letting the receiver swing, she fumbled in her purse; then, finding no small change, looked appealingly at Quin. He produced the necessary coin and handed it to her. "I don't think I'd put it in just yet," he said quietly. For a moment she paused irresolute; then she dropped the coin in the slot. "Is this the Hotel Kington?" she asked. "Will you please try again to get Mr. Phipps--Harold Phipps? P-h-i-p-p-s." Quin watched her fingers drumming on the shelf, and he knew he ought to go out of the booth and close the door; but instead he stayed in and closed it. "He doesn't answer?" Eleanor was repeating over the telephone. "Will you please page the dining-room, and if he is not at breakfast send a bell-boy up to waken him? It's _very_ important." Again there was a long wait, during which Eleanor did not so much as turn her head in Quin's direction. It was only when her answer came that she looked at him blankly.