"Miss Solomons, you're wanted in Parlor A." Ryder, in serious mood, was already climbing the stairs. The young woman passed him like a shot, and still he was not aroused from his reverie. He was tired. His work for the comfort of the hotel guests was done, and he uttered a sigh of satisfaction at the thought. There was positively nothing else that could happen to balk his desire to be alone with his wife. CHAPTER X THE BEGINNING OF A NIGHTMARE Coming to Parlor A on his way to his apartment, Ryder saw lights and heard a buzz of excited voices. He saw the house detective, and stopped a moment to see what had brought her here in such haste. Drawn into a corner at the end of the room near the huge picture of "The Cheesemonger" was an invalid's chair, which the colored man, James, had evidently just made up as a bed for his crotchety master. And there was old Cudger, in a blanket robe, nightcap, and carpet slippers, wrathfully facing three women who, so Ryder thought, should have long since been in bed. Eying both parties stood the sharp-featured Miss Solomons, her novel in one hand, the other on her hip and her head on one side. The chatter of the women, the grumbling of Cudger, and the chuckling of James, who seemed to find much amusement in the situation, made little impression upon the phenomenal calm of the house detective. "Now, then!" the latter said at last, "let's get this thing straight. Mr. Cudger has permission to sleep here to watch his oil painting tonight. What are you ladies doin' here? Lights'll go out in two minutes anyway." "It is disgraceful!" ejaculated one woman, a hard-featured person with glasses and a "transformation" that did not match her back hair in color. "This man coming into the ladies' parlor in his nightclothes----" "Ha! Don't expect me to sleep in my day clothes, do you?" snapped Mr. Cudger. "What are you ladies here for?" reiterated the sharp voice of Miss Solomons. "I ask you." "We were holding a committee meeting--a very important meeting," said the hard-featured one. "You know very well, young woman, that the Society for the Betterment of the Condition of Delinquent Girls will hold their convention here next week. We are the advance committee of the S.B.C.D.G. "All right," interrupted Miss Solomons. "But you had better advance right to bed, ladies. Lights out in one minute. Talk it over in the morning. Mr. Cudger has the call on this parlor tonight." "But I tell you, young woman, we have a right to hold our meeting here, no matter what the time is," cried the militant lady. "In the dark?" exclaimed the house detective. "No, ma'am!" and she advanced upon the three much as she might have upon a flock of chickens, literally shooing them out of the parlor. But once in the hall the women stopped to parley some more.