The seat where he had
left Senorita Rodriguez was vacant; so was the chair where Miss Thorne
had been. He glanced about inquiringly, and a servant who stood stolidly
near the conservatory door approached him.
"Pardon, sir, but the lady who was sitting here," and he indicated the
chair where Miss Thorne had been sitting, "fainted while dancing, and
the lady who was with you went along when she was removed to the ladies'
dressing-room, sir."
Mr. Grimm's teeth closed with a little snap.
"Did you happen to notice any time this evening a stout gentleman, with
red face, near the conservatory door?" he asked.
The servant pondered a moment, then shook his head.
"No, sir."
"Thank you."
Mr. Grimm was just turning away, when there came the sharp, vibrant
cra-a-sh! of a revolver, somewhere off to his left. The president! That
was his first thought. One glance across the room to where the chief
executive stood, in conversation with two other gentlemen, reassured
him. The choleric blue eyes of the president had opened a little at the
sound, then he calmly resumed the conversation. Mr. Grimm impulsively
started toward the little group, but already a cordon was being drawn
there--a cordon of quiet-faced, keen-eyed men, unobstrusively forcing
their way through the crowd.
Pages:
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38