The Tracer of Lost Persons

  CHAPTER XIV

  In the meanwhile, at the other end of the wire, Mr. Keen, the Tracer ofLost Persons, was preparing to trace for Mr. Kerns, against thatgentleman's will, the true happiness which Mr. Kerns had never been ableto find for himself.

  He sat in his easy chair within the four walls of his own office,inspecting a line of people who stood before him on the carpet forming asingle and attentive rank. In this rank were five men: a policeman, acab driver, an agent of the telephone company, an agent of the electriccompany, and a reformed burglar carrying a kit of his trade tools.

  The Tracer of Lost Persons gazed at them, meditatively joining the tipsof his thin fingers.

  "I want the number on 36 East Eighty-third Street changed to No. 38, andthe number 38 replaced by No. 36," he said to the policeman. "I want itdone at once. Get a glazier and go up there and have it finished in anhour. Mrs. Kenna, caretaker at No. 36, is in my pay; she will notinterfere. There is nobody in No. 38: Mr. Kerns leaves there to-nightand the Burglar Alarm Company takes charge to-morrow."

  And, turning to the others: "You," nodding at the reformed burglar,"know your duty. Mike!" to the cab driver, "don't miss Mr. Kerns at theLenox Club. If he calls you before eleven, drive into the park and havean accident. And you," to the agent of the telephone company, "willsever all telephone connection in Mrs. Stanley's house; and you," to theofficial of the electric company, "will see that the circuit in Mrs.Stanley's house is cut so that no electric light may be lighted and noelectric bell sound."

  The Tracer of Lost Persons stroked his gray mustache thoughtfully. "Andthat," he ended, "will do, I think. Good night."

  He rose and stood by the door as the policeman headed the solemn filewhich marched out to their duty; then he looked at his watch, and, as itwas already a few minutes after eight, he called up No. 36 EastEighty-third Street, and in a moment more had Mrs. Stanley on the wire.

  "Good evening," he said pleasantly. "I suppose you have just arrivedfrom Rosylyn. I may be a little late--I may be very late, in fact, so Icalled you up to say so. And I wished to say another thing; to ask youwhether your servants could recollect ever having seen a young manabout the place, a rather attractive young man with excellent addressand manners, five feet eleven inches, slim but well built, dark hair,dark eyes, and dark mustache, offering samples of Georgia marble forsale."

  "Really, Mr. Keen," replied a silvery voice, "I have heard them saynothing about such an individual. If you will hold the wire I will askmy maid." And, after a pause: "No, Mr. Keen, my maid cannot remember anysuch person. Do you think he was a confederate of that wretched butlerof mine?"

  "I am scarcely prepared to say that; in fact," added Mr. Keen, "Ihaven't the slightest idea that this young man could have been concernedin anything of that sort. Only, if you should ever by any chance seesuch a man, detain him if possible until you can communicate with me;detain him by any pretext, by ruse, by force if you can, only detain himuntil I can get there. Will you do this?"

  "Certainly, Mr. Keen, if I can. Please describe him again?"

  Mr. Keen did so minutely.

  "You say he sells Georgia marble by samples, which he carries in a suitcase?"

  "He _says_ that he has samples of Georgia marble in his suit case,"replied the Tracer cautiously. "It might be well, if possible, to seewhat he has in his suit case."

  "I will warn the servants as soon as I return to Rosylyn. When may Iexpect you this evening, Mr. Keen?"

  "It is impossible to say, Mrs. Stanley. If I am not there by midnight Ishall try to call next morning."

  So they exchanged civil adieus; the Tracer hung up his receiver andleaned back in his chair, smiling to himself.

  "Curious," he said, "that chance should have sent that pretty woman tome at such a time. . . . Kerns _is_ a fine fellow, every inch of him. Ithit him hard when he crossed with her to Southampton six years ago; ithit him harder when she married that Englishman. I don't wonder he nevercared to marry after that brief week of her society; for she is justabout the most charming woman I have ever met--red hair and all. . . .And if quick action is what is required, it's well to break the icebetween them at once with a dreadful misunderstanding."