CHAPTER EIGHT
Not LonelyAn apple-cheeked man in a high pair of rubber boots came shyly to the door. He introduced himself as Dobson, and conducted the guests to the coatroom under the stairs where the telephone was. A well-appointed dressing room opened from it. While Harold washed, Gamadge looked up the 8:01 train to New York, and then ordered a taxi to meet it. He next engaged a room at the Oaktree Inn for Sergeant Bantz; the Oaktree seemed pleasantly surprised.
Harold came out of the dressing room drying his hands. He said it was a crime.
“What is?”
“Eating here under a false name, and telling all these whoppers to that girl. You’ll feel pretty small when she and the Dobsons find out that we were here under false pretenses.”
“If they ever do find out, they’ll have reason to forgive
