"By the way, I'd better ask how far it is. Don't
ring. I want to go up for some more cigars."
He went up to his room, and in getting them from his bag, saw the
little instrument case which he had thrown into his bag when he was
changing. Back came the vision of the strange girl with the beautiful
face.
He slipped the wallet in his pocket, and when he reached the hall he
turned to the open door of the little room which served as the
landlord's office, or bar-room.
The landlord was enjoying a cigar and a glass of whiskey and water, and
he opened the door still wider and gave a respectful smile of welcome.
"You have a very comfortable hotel here, Mr. Groves," said Stafford, by
way of opening the conversation. "We have had a capital dinner, and
have enjoyed it tremendously; was that '72 port you gave us?"
"Yes, sir," replied Mr. Groves, much gratified. For you go straight to
a landlord's heart when you guess a good vintage and appreciate it. "I
am glad you like it, sir; there's more of it at your service. Will you
take a seat, sir, and may I offer you a glass of whiskey? It is as good
as the port, if I may say so.
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