He had a faint hope that when he returned to the lobby he might find
Weber there, but it was still lone and silent, and drawing the collar
well about his ears and throat he thrust himself out into the snow.
Turning his back to the driving flakes he walked eastward, searching
everywhere through the advancing twilight. Weber, of course, knew of
their presence in the hotel as he had seen their names on the register,
and the lighted candle on the bureau. It must have been a sudden alarm
that called him away so quickly, else he would have gone in at once, and
have spoken to his friends.
Unfortunately the night was coming fast. Thick gray gloom clothed the
whole east, and but little light showed in the west. Looking back he saw
no light in the hotel, but that was to be expected, as Picard would
certainly loop the curtains heavily over the windows. Out here in the
ruined town much of his extraordinary buoyancy departed. The cold and
the desolation of the world made him shiver a little. He thrust his hand
into the pocket of his overcoat, and closed it upon the butt of the
automatic.
He thought once of calling at the top of his voice for Weber, but
instinctive caution kept him from doing so. Then he caught sight of a
slender moving figure far ahead and feeling sure that it must be the
Alsatian he hurried forward.
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