“I did. I arrived at your hotel yesterday afternoon, and I had dinner served to me in my own rooms by a waiter whose name was Giuseppe.” He paused. “I dare say we have a waiter of that name,” agreed the manager indifferently. “I was struck by something unusual in the waiter’s manner, but thought nothing more of it at the time. Later, in the night, I was awakened by the sound of some one moving softly about the room. I switched on the light, and found this same Giuseppe in the act of rifling my leather suit-case.” The manager’s indifference had completely disappeared now. “But I have heard nothing of this,” he exclaimed. “Why was I not informed sooner?” “The man and I had a brief struggle—he was armed with a knife by the way. In the end he succeeded in making off by way of the window.” “What did you do then, Mr. McGrath?” “I examined the contents of my suit-case.” “Had anything been taken?” “Nothing of—importance,” said Anthony slowly. The manager leaned back with a sigh. “I am glad of that,” he remarked. “But you will allow me to say, Mr. McGrath, that I do not quite understand your attitude in the matter. You made no attempt to arouse the hotel? To pursue the thief?” Anthony shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing of value had been taken, as I tell you. I am aware, of course, that strictly speaking it is a case for the police——” He paused, and the manager murmured without any particular enthusiasm: “For the police—of course——” “In any case, I was fairly certain that the man would manage to make good his escape, and since nothing was taken why bother with the police?” The manager smiled a little. “I see that you realize, Mr. McGrath, that I am not at all anxious to have the police called in. From my point of view it is always disastrous. If the newspapers can get hold of anything connected with a big fashionable hotel such as this, they always run it for all it is worth, no matter how insignificant the real subject matter may be.” “Quite so,” agreed Anthony. “Now I told you that nothing of value had been taken, and that was perfectly true in a sense. Nothing of any value to the thief was taken, but he got hold of something which is of considerable value to me.” “Ah?” “Letters, you understand.” An expression of superhuman discretion, only to be achieved by a Frenchman, settled down upon the manager’s face. “I comprehend,” he murmured. “But perfectly. Naturally, it is not a matter for the police.” “We are quite agreed upon that point. But you will understand that I have every intention of recovering these letters. In the part of the world where I come from, people are used to doing things for themselves. What I require from you therefore is the fullest possible information you can give me about this waiter, Giuseppe.”