Together the two young men searched every corner of the double
apartment. The careful housewife's summer shroudings of Ferris'
rooms were still undisturbed.

As for Clayton's apartment, it was left in the careless disorder of
a young man about town. "I will touch nothing," said Ferris, awed
into a dismal silence. Jack Witherspoon keenly followed Ferris'
every movement. There was nothing to indicate any idea of departure.

Even Clayton's trunk-keys were in the scattered packages in the
ante-rooms. The closets, dressers, and wardrobes showed no gap, as
the young men explored.

"That's the only new thing I see--that picture," casually said
Ferris, pointing to the Danube view. "I never saw that before, and
he was not much of an art collector."

A sharp knock on the door drew Ferris to the door, where an office
clerk awaited him with a telegram. Witherspoon still stood eying
the picture, when Ferris said, "Look out for things here. I've got
to answer a telegram. Hugh is not at Cheyenne. I must call him at
Tacoma. Alice can forward the dispatch."

Left alone in the room, Jack Witherspoon redoubled his energies,
knowing that he might never see the interior again. Ferris' remark
about the picture had strangely attracted his attention. "That
means something," mused the excited Jack. His hand was on a closet
door, and by a strange impulse he opened it quickly. A picture-case
of heavy pasteboard stood there, upright in a corner, and a
half-detached label caught his eye. The Detroit lawyer tore it off
and hastily secreted it. He was seated at a table in the room when
Ferris reentered.

"Now," said he, bolting the doors between the two apartments,
"I wish to have you see these rooms sealed up! I must get back to
the office. You would do me a great favor if you would be here and
represent me as well as Clayton's interests when the detectives
search to-morrow. For nothing more can be done till I hook on to
Worthington, or the police may have a report from the outside.

"Twenty tramp steamers and fifty sea-going boats have left since
Saturday noon. I am afraid Clayton has shown us a clean pair of
heels. What do you think?"

But Jack Witherspoon only clutched the objects in his pocket, and
slowly shook his head. "I think nothing! It is a sad business, and
I will help you all I can! I will wait here until you hear from
Hugh, at any rate. You can drop me at the Hoffman."

At the hotel Ferris said, on parting, "Come over