[Illustration: Title page] THE RED LODGE _A Mystery of Campden Hill_ BY VICTOR BRIDGES GARDEN CITY NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1924 COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y. _First Edition_ TO MARGARET BOOKS BY VICTOR BRIDGES Another Man's Shoes Greensea Island: A Mystery of the Essex Coast Mr. Lyndon at Liberty Rogue by Compulsion The Cruise of the Scandal and Other Stories The Lady from Long Acre The Man from Nowhere The Red Lodge THE RED LODGE _A Mystery of Campden Hill_ CHAPTER ONE A dark green Rolls-Royce limousine slid round the corner of Sydney Place and, proceeding a few hundred yards along the Fulham Road, drew up in front of St. Christopher's Hospital. It had scarcely stopped before the door opened and its solitary occupant--a tall, well-dressed man of about fifty--stepped out on to the pavement. "You can wait here, Simmons," he said, addressing the chauffeur. "I shan't be more than a few minutes." The porter on duty, who was talking to a friend in the hall, touched his cap respectfully as the newcomer hurried past him in the direction of the main staircase. "See that bloke, Fred?" he whispered, jerking his thumb after the retreating figure. "That's Sir George Onslow, that is. Some pore beggar's for it, you can take my word." "Well, thank Gawd 'e ain't a-goin' to 'ack me about," returned the other. "Pack o' butchers, all the lot of 'em, if they gets 'alf a chance." Unconscious of having been the cause of this somewhat drastic criticism of his profession, the famous surgeon mounted rapidly to the second landing, where a long, bare, distempered corridor stretched away in either direction. Choosing the one on the left, he came to a halt in front of a white door, on which the two words "House Surgeon" were neatly painted in black letters, and, without troubling to knock, turned the handle and walked in. A broad-shouldered, cheerful-looking young man, who was sitting at the table reading a medical book, glanced up carelessly at his entrance. On seeing who the visitor was his expression changed, and with a certain air of surprise he rose quickly to his feet. "Hullo, Sir George," he exclaimed. "We weren't expecting you this morning." The elder man stepped forward and offered his hand. "Sorry to interrupt your studies, Gray," he said, smiling. "This isn't an official visit. I've just looked in on a little private and personal matter." The young house surgeon pulled forward a tattered armchair. "Well, I'm delighted to see you, sir," he said heartily. "Won't you take a pew?" Sir George sat down, and, leaning forward, helped himself to a cigarette from the box which his companion offered him. "You were telling me about your plans a week or two ago," he said. "Have you come to any decision yet?"