CHAPTER III
THE MAN OF MYSTERY AGAIN
"Well, boys," said Mr. Temple at breakfast next morning. "I'm going to be busy today talking business with my Pacific Coast representatives.
First of all, however, Frank and I shall have to go and lay before the government people this information as to what he overheard. I suppose, Bob, that you and Jack want to go along."
"Righto, Father," said Bob.
They sat at table in the Palace Hotel on Market Street in San Francisco.
This is one of the most famous hostelries in the world. Lotta's Fountain is on Market Street outside. Nearby is the intersection of Market, Geary and Kearney Streets-the busiest spot in all the great city. The offices of the big newspapers are adjacent. The hotel itself has housed famous men and women from all parts of the world, has been the scene of great municipal balls and other festivities, and in addition is the Mecca for which head all the prospectors of the gold country and the Yukon when they strike it rich, as they say.
Mr. Temple's business in the city was to consult with the western representative of the big exporting and importing firm of which he was the head. Frank's father had been his partner, and on his death had made Mr. Temple his son's guardian and administrator of his estate.
"We'll stay a week, if all goes well," said Mr. Temple. "Of course, if my business engagements take up too much of my time we might stay a day or two longer, as there are some points of interest I intend to visit while here. I've been in San Francisco before, but, for one thing, I've never gone to the top of Mt. Tamalpais, across the Bay in the Marin County peninsula. I want to make that trip. I suppose," he added, with a smile, "you won't object if I am forced to stay more than a week."
"Oh, yes," said Jack laughing, "we'll be awfully put out. We don't want to see a thing."
Suddenly Frank pushed back his chair and with an incoherent cry started to dart away. Bob seized him by the coat. Frank writhed in his grasp and attempted to twist free. He was highly excited.
"Hold on," said Bob. "What's the matter?"
Then Frank managed to obtain sufficent control of his voice to explain.
"Let me go," he demanded. "I saw that man who was on the train-the fellow who was explaining the smuggling plot."
"Where, where?" demanded Bob, also gaining his feet.
"He was breakfasting over there," said Frank, pointing to a table near the exit. "I caught just a glimpse of him. I think he was watching us.
Come on."
Turning, he darted off with Bob at his heels.
"Don't leave the hotel," called Mr. Temple, sharply. "People are watching us."
"Excuse me," said Jack, who had stood undecided whether to follow his chums. "I'll be right back."
And he, too, walked rapidly away.
With a sigh, Mr. Temple picked up his morning paper. But he was unable to concentrate on his reading. His eyes wandered anxiously toward the door despite himself. In a few minutes, however, his anxiety was relieved. He saw the forms of the three boys appear. From their expressions, he gathered that they had been unsuccessful.
"No use," said Frank. "He had disappeared."
"There are three doorways to as many streets," explained Jack, sinking into his chair. "Each of us went a different way, but we couldn't see him."
"Maybe he's a guest here," said Bob, "and went to his room."
"Good idea," said Frank. "Why didn't I think of that before? I'll just go and describe him to the room clerk and see if he's here, and maybe I can learn his name."
He would have gone at once, but Mr. Temple restrained him.
"Finish your breakfast first, Frank," said he. "You have barely touched your eggs and bacon. If the man is a guest here, you can get the information just as well a half hour from now."
The boys finished breakfast in record time. Mr. Temple sighed.
"You fellows are in such a hurry," said he. "If you are going to lead me the wild chase here that you did in New Mexico I'll wish I had never brought you. Here I go and plan a little sightseeing trip, and the first thing you do before ever arriving at San Francisco is to become involved in a plot. It won't do, you know."
Nevertheless, he got to his feet, signed the breakfast check and followed the boys toward the clerk's desk.
"No," said the latter, after Frank had described minutely the mysterious stranger. "I am quite sure I was not on duty last night when the Flyer came in, but I was talking to the night clerk when the arrivals registered. I remember your faces well, for instance. I am quite sure I would have noted such a man as you describe if he had been among the number."
Disappointed, Frank turned away.
"So much for that," he said to his friends. "But, do you know? I wonder if that fellow happened to be in the breakfast room by accident, or whether he was watching us?"
"Watching us?" said Bob. "Oh, you've got this plot stuff on the brain, old thing. Why would he be watching us?"
"To see whether we went to the authorities," said Frank. "If he saw us go to the authorities, he would be pretty certain we had overheard enough of his conversation out on the observation platform last night to make us suspicious, at least."
Mr. Temple was struck with the force of Frank's reasoning.
"Look here," he said, to the three chums. "Frank is right. If there is a big plot afoot, and this fellow suspects us of having gained some knowledge of it, he probably would do just as Frank says."
"Suppose you called up the Secret Service men, Mr. Temple," suggested Jack, "and asked one of them to call on you here at the hotel? Wouldn't that be better than to go to them?"
"Very good, Jack," approved the older man. "A government agent could make his way direct to our suite without arousing suspicion if he takes precautions, while, if Frank is correct and we are being shadowed, we could not stir out of the hotel without being followed. Do you boys stay here and keep your eyes open, while I go to our rooms and telephone. If you see any more of this fellow, call me. If not, come up in half an hour. By then probably a government man will have arrived."
The half-hour passed quickly for the boys who sat in the lobby, intensely interested in the life of the big hotel going on around them, and especially in the Oriental men-servants in their gorgeous native costumes flitting in and out on noiseless soft-soled slippers. They saw no sign of the man Frank believed was shadowing them and, at the end of the allotted period of time, took the elevator to their third-floor suite overlooking Market Street.
Barely had they entered the sitting room than there came a low knock on the door, repeated three times, and Mr. Temple sprang to open it.
"There's the government agent," he said. "That's the signal he said he would give."
As he opened the door, an alert, slim man of 30 stepped inside and closed the door quickly behind him.
"Pardon my abruptness," he said, in a low voice. "Are you Mr. Temple?"
"I am."
"And I am Inspector Burton," said the other, flipping back the right lapel of his coat and displaying a small gold shield. "You wanted to see me?"
"I did," said Mr. Temple. "Won't you sit down?"
Inspector Burton took off his hat and accepted the proffered chair. He looked inquiringly at the boys. Mr. Temple introduced them.
"Now," said Mr. Temple, "you probably were somewhat mystified by my message. I did not want to say anything over the telephone about the nature of the business on which we wanted to see you. Yet I did want you to come here without being seen. That was why I asked you to take precautions."
The other nodded.