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 CHAPTER XXI

A SECRET MEETING

At nine o'clock that night, Bob Hutchinson, smoking, stood on the steps of the Central Hotel, in Kingsbridge, and waited. Presently two men, one stout and heavy, the other slender and quickstepping, came round the nearest corner, and hurried toward the steps. "Well, here he is!" muttered Hutchinson, recognizing the heavy man as Riley.

"Hist!" breathed the Bancroft manager, as he puffed up the steps. "'Fraid you wouldn't be here. Let's not hang round. Take us up to y'ur room."

"Come on," said Hutchinson, leading the way.

It was not necessary to pass through the hotel office and writing room, where there were a number of loungers, and some drummers. They mounted the stairs, and reached Hutchinson's room without encountering any one.

"Shut the door," said Riley the moment he was inside. "That was lucky. Nobody seen us come here."