CHAPTER FOUR
1
"Tell me all," said Hamilton Beamish.
George told him all. The unfortunate young man was still looking licked to a splinter. For several hours he had been wandering distractedly through the streets of New York, and now he had crawled into Hamilton Beamish's apartment in the hope that a keener mind than his own might be able to detect in the encompassing clouds a silver lining which he himself had missed altogether.
"Let me get this clear," said Hamilton Beamish. "You called at the house?"
"Yes."
"And the butler refused to admit you?"
"Yes."
Hamilton Beamish regarded his stricken friend compassionately.
"My poor cloth-headed George," he said, "you appear to have made a complete mess of things. By being impetuous you have ruined everything. Why could you not have wait
