It is the commencement."
He tore open the envelope, and drew out a single half-sheet of
note-paper. Across it was scrawled a single sentence only.
"Go back to Lenox."
There was no signature, nor any date. The only noticeable thing
about this brief communication was that it was written in yellow
pencil of a peculiar shade. Mr. Sabin's eyes glittered as he read.
"The yellow crayon!" he muttered.
Duson knocked softly at the door. Mr. Sabin thrust the letter and
envelope into his breast coat pocket.
CHAPTER II
"This is the luggage porter, sir," Duson announced. "He is prepared
to answer any questions."
The man took out his book. Mr. Sabin, who was sitting in an
easy-chair, turned sideways towards him.
"The Duchess of Souspennier was staying here last week," he said.
"She left, I believe, on Thursday or Friday. Can you tell me
whether her baggage went through your hands?"
The man set down his hat upon a vacant chair, and turned over the
leaves of his book.
"Guess I can fix that for you," he remarked, running his forefinger
down one of the pages. "Here we are. The Duchess left on Friday,
and we checked her baggage through to Lenox by the New York, New
Haven & Hartford."
Mr. Sabin nodded.
"Thank you," he said. "She would probably take a carriage to the
station.
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