They stared at each other a moment in bewilderment. It was Chester who spoke first.

"Are you sure it was the little mam'selle?" he questioned. "Did it sound like her voice?"

"Oh, it was Virginie! I'm absolutely certain of it. I'd know her voice a thousand miles away. But what does it all mean? She says there is danger—that both she and I are in danger, and she was trying to warn me about it. But she spoke so low, and she hesitated so, and then, just as she was going to tell me where she was, there was the click of the receiver being hung up and not another word. What does it mean?"

"It means," affirmed the boy, after some thought, "that the little un was speakin' to you over the 'phone on the q.t., an' she was probably scared stiff for fear she'd be caught, an' she had to leave off before she'd finished because some one was comin' along or somethin'. That's the way I figure it."

"I believe you're right!" declared Patricia. "That's just the way her voice sounded—'scared stiff,' as you say. But what on earth are we going to do? She's in danger and we don't even know where she is; and I'm in danger and I'm here all alone, except for Mrs. Quale's Delia, who is with me for to-night. It's dreadful. Just dreadful! I don't know which way to turn. I'd call up the police and put the thing in their hands if I dared. But I don't dare. It would spoil everything for Father if anything about this secret became generally known, and I don't even think I ought to speak to the hotel authorities for the same reason. What am I going to do?"

"Looka here, Miss," began Chet, quietly, "I believe we can fix things pretty near to all right. If you'd just be willin' to trust the matter to me. I know I'm only a bell-hop, but I know a whole heap more'n most folks think I do; an' bein' only a bell-hop is the very reason I can go and see an' do a lot that others couldn't, just cause nobody's suspectin' I'm up to anything. Do you get me?"

"Y-yes," faltered Patricia. "I think I see what you're driving at and I really trust you absolutely. But what is your idea? What do you think had better be done?"

The boy seemed to grow an inch taller with pride at Patricia's assertion of her faith and trust in him. His snub-nosed countenance fairly beamed. "Well, here's my idea. I gotta go off duty pretty soon an' go home. I oughtn't to be hangin' around here now. I'll get what-for down in the office for bein' away so long, anyhow. But I don't care. All in the day's work! Now, I figure it this way. There ain't anything dangerous goin' to happen to you to-night in this here hotel. You're as safe as a church here as long as you keep your door locked. If you feel nervous, better sit up as long as you can, an' read or something. Then if you should see or hear anything queer, call right down to the office on the 'phone. You'd have the house detective up here so quick it'd make you blink.

"But I'll tell you what I'll do besides. I'll beat it home as fast as I can (I don't live so very far off) an' let my mother know where I am. Then I'll take my motor-cycle (the one I bought for thirty dollars an' put in order an' it runs like a bird!) an' I'll cruise around all night. An' every once in a while I'll turn up in the park right below your windows an' hang around a while an' whistle, 'It's a long, long trail.' You'll hear me plain enough, for you're only on the third floor. An' if everything ain't goin' all right, pull the shade clean up to the top, an' I'll know somethin's wrong an' butt in here an' make it hot for every one generally."

"Oh, Chester, that's awfully good of you!" sighed Patricia, in mingled admiration and relief. "It will make me feel lots easier. I know I can't sleep a wink, so I might just as well sit up and try to read or sew. I'll keep the lights full on, and I'll follow your advice about calling up the office if I think everything's not all right. But it will be such a comfort to know that you will be nearby once in a while. Only it doesn't seem as if you ought to be up all night when you've got to work to-morrow."

"Don't you mind about me!" he assured her. "To-morrow's my day off, an' I don't have to show up here at all till ten-thirty P. M., when I go on night duty. You know I have one day a week."

"But, Chester," cried Patricia, in fresh alarm, "then I shall be all alone here to-morrow, for Mrs. Quale may not be back till night, and I'm sure Father won't. I suppose I'm silly, but this thing is so dreadfully mysterious and—and uncertain that I'm just as much afraid of it in the daytime as I am at night."

"You just quit worryin' about to-morrow," admonished Chet. "I got a scheme up my sleeve for to-morrow, but you'll hear more about that from me later. All I say about to-morrow is this: go down to breakfast as usual and as early as possible and ask for your mail at the desk before you eat. Then we'll see what to do next."

"But," objected Patricia, once more, "what about poor little Virginie? She is in danger too—and we don't even know where she is or what the danger is. Yet I feel as if we ought to do something about it. It isn't right to leave her, is it, without trying to do a thing—"

"You just leave the little mam'selle's affairs to me too, for to-night, an' don't worry about 'em no further," interrupted the boy. "I ain't got time to tell you all I plan to do, but you can bet your boots I ain't goin' to be idle. Good night, an' don't forget to go to breakfast an' get your mail early!"

And Chester Jackson retired, closing the door behind him.