When he entered his own rooms there had been a transformation scene enacted. Ruth's trunks had arrived, and she had removed her traveling dress, had slipped on the dressing sack again, and, to the eyes of a mere man, she seemed burrowing in the several trunks like a squirrel in a heap of fallen leaves. "Those poor porters," she explained, "had such hard work getting these boxes over here. The wagon could only come to the bridge, you know, and they told me they had to pole the luggage over in a punt---and that leaks and isn't safe. Then they brought the boxes on barrows to the hotel. Re'lly! They worked so hard that I gave them a dime each." "Oh!" Ryder clapped a hand over his mouth, and then sneezed to hide his laughter. "Had--hadn't I better stay out until this is all over?" he asked. He thought some of hunting up the porters and seeing that they had larger tips. "No. You can remain if you will be good. And you can see my dresses, too. I think I did very well in getting them--especially when I wasn't _sure_, you know." "Sure of what?" he asked, comfortably, establishing himself in a reserved seat--that is, one that was not already hidden under billows of feminine wear. "Why, sure I should marry you," she said, turning to give him a roguish look. "Oh--ah--yes," murmured Ryder. Then he started. "By the way, what chance did you have to get ready----" His question was interrupted by a heavy summons at the door. He went himself this time. One of the bellboys was there. "Sorry, sir," said the boy in a low voice, "but the manager, Mr. Bangs, has to tell you that the hotel is to be vacated at once. He had no notice himself, so he can give you none." "What in thunder do you mean?" demanded Ryder, in amazement. "Yes, sir. You can't stay here, sir." "Why not? Does the manager want his money in advance?" "No, sir. 'Tain't you alone. Everybody's got to get out, sir. We're all losing our jobs, sir. I--I don't know what to do myself, sir----" "Why, it's ridiculous!" "I don't know nothin' about it, sir. I was just told to tell everybody in this corridor. And you've all got to get right out. He wouldn't let the clerk telephone to the rooms 'cause it would take so much time. Mr. Bangs says he will turn off the lights at half past eight and lock the door--that's in half an hour, sir. There's to be no service after that time." The boy hurried to the door of the next suite. Ryder was too amazed at first to feel proper anger. To be told that, in half an hour, one must get out of a hotel in which one has just established oneself---- "It is preposterous!" determined John Ryder, turning back into his rooms. He saw Ruth, all unconscious of the unpleasant announcement, still busy over the trunks. The uselessness of her task suddenly smote his mind. "Why," he muttered, "she's wasting her time. She might as well stop that if we can't stay here. And, by thunder! where will we go if this hotel closes--and at such an hour?