"Thanks! Much obliged! Like to, you know, but have an appointment!" And,
shaking his hand, "Good-by!"

"Good-by!" gasped Woods reluctantly, as if desiring one word more. But
Hugh, with a grin on his face that awakened renewed expectations on the
part of the porter, was making, stiff and straight, for the
baggage-room. Once, looking back over his shoulder, he saw that Woods
was standing stock still; and again, with another smile, he watched his
mystified friend slowly depart.

"Now, then, my man, tell me quickly--you gave her the note? What did she
do? Where did she go? Out with it--why don't you speak?"

"All right, sir. Everything's all right. The lady has gone to the
hotel," replied the man as soon as Hugh gave him a chance to answer.

"Good. Find me another cab, quick. And here," handing him a dollar.

Meanwhile, Grace Vernon, quite sanguine of soon being with Hugh, was
approaching the lower part of the city, reasoning, quite logically, that
a downtown hotel was selected on account of the probable absence of the
ultra-fashionable set. There, their secret would be safe,--and also they
would be nearer the steamer.

Arriving at her destination, Grace dismissed the disappointed cabman,
and entered the ladies' waiting-room, where she rang for the clerk.

"Is there a Mr. Ridge staying here?" she asked of him with an assurance
that, she flattered herself, was admirably assumed.