"Give my
love to him."
"Surely, I'm off scent this time," muttered Job to himself, as he slowly
followed in the steps of the young man.
Entering the Commercial Hotel, he stepped up to the desk, and turned over
the pages of the register. Presently he found the name of George Thornly,
room 104. Ah! this was the man he had followed. He had missed the last
syllable of the name. It was Thornly instead of Thorne. He was now
certainly at sea. Moving away, disgusted with himself, he walked through
the spacious office, and almost ran into a man as he reached the door.
Both men exclaimed in mutual surprise, "Hello!" Neither pronounced the
name of the other, and yet both spoke it mentally.
Worth was the first to recover, and said: "Pardon me, I thought I
recognized a friend; possibly I'm mistaken; my name is Worth. May I
ask yours?"
"O," replied the other, "I have heard of you. You are connected with the
Legation in Washington."
"Well," replied Worth, "I _was_ secretary, but have resigned. Where have
I met you--somewhere, I'm pretty certain. Was it in Washington? One is
apt to forget names, when meeting so many."
With a slight hesitancy the other answered: "My name is Thorne. I'm a
stranger here. Are you stopping here?" The young man was evidently
nervous, and spoke in an uneasy manner.
Job, pointing to a chair, said, quietly: "Shall we sit down? We are both
strangers." The invitation to be seated was rather reluctantly accepted,
and there was a shade of suspicion seen by Worth on Thorne's face.
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