There was no arguing with the man. He had made up his mind.
Rogers put an end to it by saying: “Well, d**k, at least you know your danger. And that’s your best defense; you’ll be on your guard.” He looked at the watch on his wrist. “What do you say that we get on up to the inn? It’s nearly five. If Ruth Downes was going to pick up Harry Byers and his companion about four somewhere on the road to Dante’s View, they could be getting back by this time if they came directly to the inn.”
“Let’s go,” said Stocker, rising and starting toward the door.
When we reached the inn, however, our man had not returned. We looked through the lobby and the lounge. There was no response when we telephoned Byers’ room. In a chair on the terrace, tapping the ferrule of a gold-headed cane impatiently upon th
