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Updated: September 26, 2025
Kerns looked long and unsteadily upon his friend; then very gravely fumbled in his pocket and drew forth the business card of Westrel Keen, Tracer of Lost Persons. "That," he said, "will be about all." And he bestowed the card upon Harren with magnificent condescension. And about five o'clock the following afternoon Harren found the card among various effects of his, scattered over his dresser.
Last week you wrote me, and I immediately set every wheel in motion; in other words, I had you under observation from the day I received your letter to this very moment." "You learned much concerning me?" asked Harren quietly. "Exactly, my dear sir." "But," continued Harren with a touch of malice, "you didn't learn that my leave is up to-morrow, did you?" "Yes, I learned that, too."
Captain Harren, extremely pink, stood tugging at his short mustache and studying the papers on the desk. "Well?" inquired the Tracer, amused. The young man pointed to the translation with unsteady finger. "W-what on earth does that mean?" he demanded shakily. "Who is Edith Inwood? W-what on earth does that cryptogram mean on the window pane in the photograph? How did it come there?
"Saner men than you or I have spent a lifetime over this so-called Seal of Solomon." He laid his finger on the two symbols Then, looking across the table at Harren: "What," he asked, "has the Seal of Solomon to do with your case?" "She " muttered Harren, and fell silent. The Tracer waited; Harren said nothing. "Where is the photograph?"
"Good heavens!" broke in Harren; "how can you prove a man to be in love when he himself doesn't know whether he is or not? If a man isn't in love no Bertillon system can make him so; and if a man doesn't know whether or not he is in love, who can tell him the truth?" "I can," said the Tracer calmly. "What! When I tell you I myself don't know?"
"Then you know more than I," retorted Harren sharply. "But that is my business to know more than you do," returned Mr. Keen patiently. "Else why are you here to consult me?" And as Harren made no reply: "I have seen thousands and thousands of people in love.
There'll be Mr. and Mrs. Tommy Kerns, Captain and Mrs. Harren, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Burke, Mrs. Gatewood, and myself. We want you to set the date for it, Mr. Keen, and we also wish you to suggest one more deliriously happy couple whom you have dragged out of misery and flung head-first into terrestrial paradise." "Do you young people really care to do this for me?" asked the Tracer, laughing.
They bowed. Young Harren drew from his pocket a card. It was the business card of Keen & Co., and, glancing up at Mr. Keen, he read it aloud, carefully: KEEN & CO. Keen & Co. are prepared to locate the whereabouts of anybody on earth. No charges will be made unless the person searched for is found. Blanks on Application. WESTREL KEEN, Manager. Harren raised his clear, gray eyes.
What further field would you suggest?" Harren glanced at the card which he held in his gloved hand; then, very slowly, he re-read, "the whereabouts of anybody on earth," accenting the last two words deliberately as he encountered Keen's piercing gaze again. "Well?" asked Mr. Keen laughingly, "is not that sufficient?
She stood a moment so, then, shuddering, covered her eyes with both hands. The Tracer of Lost Persons looked at her, turned and opened the door. "Captain Harren!" he called quietly. Harren, pacing the anteroom, turned and came forward.
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