THE LUCK OF THE IRISH
chair in the midst of the confusion and sat down to wait. Her fellow-tourists began to depart in groups. Ten minutes to nine she became worried. Not belonging to that class of women who cannot do anything but wait, she went to the desk to learn if William had left word. He had not.
"Perhaps he has overslept," she suggested.
The clerk looked over the key-rack. "Here is his key, miss."
She thought for a moment. "It might be well to send some one up, at least to see if his luggage has been brought down. It is getting late."
"Very well, miss."
Five minutes later Ruth was informed that Mr. Grogan had not been in his room. His clothes lay about; nothing had been packed. Ruth was now alarmed.
"Give me the key and summon a maid for me," she said, resolutely. She did not care what people said.
She and the maid packed William's grips and carried them down-stairs. It was now ten minutes past nine. She could wait five minutes longer. What had happened? It was certain that he had not returned to the hotel last night. Promptness was one of William's virtues. Never before had she missed him in the morning. A dread thought, thrust it aside as she might, persisted. It did not matter that he was very strong, quick, and resourceful. Each time she shut her eyes she saw a man stealing treacherously up behind him.
At nine-fifteen she was forced to go to her car-
187
