Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance. He motioned the young man to the rear chair, because at that hour the youth appeared to be a quantity close to zero. Not the most stringent search, conducted all morning, turned up one solitary sheet. This fall saved him, for the horsemen passed over him. He was the junior of both his sisters, co-educated and much broken in to feminine society. Locked! He sped out to the corridor and went swiftly into the next room. But of what avail is this? You have no execution, no finish. ‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage.
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