that name."

"What!" ejaculated Walter, in astonishment. "Do you mean to tell me
that Doctor Mack--my guardian--was at the hotel last night? It can't
be. He would have called on me."

"It may not have been the same man. Now I come to think of it, he
didn't put himself down on the book Doctor Mack. He just put himself
down E. Mack. He seemed a plain sort of man."

"Where did he register from?" asked Walter eagerly.

"From Albany."

"Is he at the hotel now?"

"He went away by the morning train."

"Then it couldn't have been he," said Walter, in a tone of relief. "He
doesn't live in Albany. Besides, he would have called on me. No, it
must have been some other Mack."

"Perhaps you wouldn't have liked to have him catch you at a gay
supper, Mr. Sherwood?" said the landlord shrewdly.

"Well, no, I'd a little rather receive him in my room, with a book
open before me."

"He might object to pay out money for such doings."