The Counterfeit Mystery by Norvin Pallas

Author:Norvin Pallas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2018-08-02T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

THE LOCKED DOOR

Fifteen minutes before opening time Ted was cooling his heels, pacing up and down in front of the office, hoping but not really expecting that Mr. Woodring would show up. Opening time came and went, and still the door of the office was firmly locked. He determined to wait half an hour longer, just to give Mr. Woodring the benefit of the doubt. When this half-hour, too, had passed, he knew what he had to do.

He went across to the drugstore and telephoned the hotel. He asked for Mr. Woodring’s room, but after the phone had rung eight or ten times with no response, the desk clerk came on.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no answer. Can I take a message?”

“This is Ted Wilford, and I’ve been working for Mr. Woodring. It’s very important that I reach him. Can you send up a messenger to see if he’s there?”

“All right, Ted, I’ll try it.”

Ted hung on a few minutes longer before the clerk came on again. “Mr. Woodring isn’t here. It looks as though he’s left, bag and baggage.”

“Didn’t he check out?”

“No, he’s still listed on the register. He hasn’t turned in his key.”

“Did he pay for his room?”

“Yes, he was paid up for the rest of this week. I suppose we’ll have to keep the room available for him, just in case he does come back, but if a guest intends to return he doesn’t usually take every single item with him. Well, if he doesn’t come back, all we’re out is a key, but we don’t like to do business that way.”

Ted thanked him and hung up. There could no longer be the slightest doubt that Mr. Woodring had taken flight—taken it because of what Ted had said yesterday about the purple cow. This left Ted with no alternative but to report the matter to Mr. Dobson, who was, after all, his real employer.

At the Town Crier office Ted told Mr. Dobson exactly what had happened. Miss Monroe and Nancy were there, too, and they also listened to his story. The editor’s face was very sober as Ted concluded.

“I suppose it was my fault,” Ted decided. “If I had really thought there was anything wrong about those stamps, I should have told you about it, instead of Mr. Woodring. This gave him a chance to get away. But up until last night I thought this whole purple-cow business could be explained somehow.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Ted,” the editor admonished him. “It was my fault entirely. We had plenty of opportunity to realize something was wrong. You told me Mr. Woodring had been lying about the 3 per cent. I found he had never worked at Beacon, Jones and Western, as he claimed. Nancy mentioned something to me yesterday about purple cows, but Monday’s our deadline morning, and I didn’t pay much attention. I can see now that I’ve been frightfully careless. I still believe the company is honest—I checked into them pretty thoroughly—but I didn’t think to check more closely into their salesman, or to believe what I found when I did.

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