E Phillips Oppenheim

The Box with Broken Seals E Phillips Oppenheim

James Crawshay, Englishman of the type usually described in transatlantic circles as "someBritisher," lolled apparently at his ease upon the couch of the too-resplendent sitting roomin the Hotel Magnificent, Chicago. Hobson, his American fellow traveler, on the other hand, betrayed his anxiety by his nervous pacing up and down the apartment. Both men boretraces in their appearance of the long journey which they had only just completed."I think," Crawshay decided, yawning, "that I shall have a bath. I feel gritty, and my collar-heavens, what a sight! Your trains, Hobson, may be magnificent, but your coal is filthy. I willhave a bath while your friend, the policeman, makes up his mind whether to come and seeus or not."His companion treated the suggestion with scant courtesy."You will do nothing of the sort," was his almost fierce objection."We've got to wait right here until Chief of Police Downs comes along. There's something crooked about this business, something I don'tunderstand, and the sooner we get to the bottom of it, the better.