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"By the way, I think I'll take that sheet of paper on which I copied the cipher. Thank you. I won't be long." The attendant had vanished. Captain Harren sat down by a window and gazed out into the late afternoon sunshine. The Tracer of Lost Persons, treading softly across the carpeted floor, approached the sanctuary, turned the handle, and walked in, carefully closing the door behind him.
Immersed in bitter reflection, he climbed the familiar stairway and sent his card to Mr. Keen, and in due time he was ushered into the presence of the Tracer of Lost Persons. "Mr. Keen," he began, with a headlong desire to get it over and be done with it, "I may as well tell you how impossible it is for you, or anybody, to find that person I described " Mr.
Burke rose, prepared to take his leave, but the Tracer was apparently busy with the combination lock of a safe, and the young man lingered a moment to make his adieus. As he stood waiting for the Tracer to turn around he studied the writing on the sheet of paper which he held toward the light: Joram Smiles, no profession, 613 West 24th Street. Emanuel Gandon, no profession, same address.
"I beg yours for my impatience," said the Tracer pleasantly. "This deciphering always did affect my nerves and shorten my temper. And, no doubt, it is quite as hard on you. Shall we go on, Mr. Burke?" "If you please, Mr. Keen." So the Tracer laid his pencil point on the next symbol "That is the symbol for night," he said; "and that is the water symbol again, as you know; and that
"Can I do anything to aid you in this?" "Yes," replied the Tracer, laughing. "If you can keep him amused for an hour or two before he goes after his suit case it might make it easier for me. This young lady is due to arrive in New York at eight o'clock a client of mine coming to consult me. Her presence plays an important part in Mr. Kerns's future. I wish you to detain Mr.
"No," said the Tracer; "please ring off." Then he called up General Information. "I want the Museum of Inscriptions. Get me their number, please." After a moment: "Is this the Museum of Inscriptions?" "Is Professor Boggs there?" "Is this Professor Boggs?" "Could you find time to decipher an inscription for me at once?"
"You suggested May, I believe," she said wistfully. The Tracer leaned back in his chair, joining the tips of his fingers reflectively. "Miss Southerland," he said, "you have been with us a year. I thought it might interest you to know that I am exceedingly pleased with you." She colored charmingly. "But," he added, "I'm terribly afraid we're going to lose you." "Why?" she asked, startled.
They're steering their torpedoes with tracer rays of almost infinitesimal power, amplified in the torpedoes themselves that's the way I'd do it myself. It may take a little while to rig up the apparatus, but we'll get it and then we'll run those birds ragged so fast that their ankles'll catch fire and won't need the fourth-dimensional correction after all."
"Then why did you give me an appointment for the day after to-morrow?" demanded the young man bluntly. The Tracer looked him squarely in the eye. "Your leave is to be extended," he said. "What?" "Exactly. It has been extended one week." "How do you know that?" "You applied for extension, did you not?" "Yes," said Harren, turning red, "but I don't see how you knew that I " "By cable?" "Y-yes."
In those seven sectors perhaps a dozen vessels threw out enormous spherical screens of intense red light, and as they did so their tracer points upon all the interlocked lookout plates also became ringed about with red.
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