aid to himself, "Tommy must take out his papers. The time is
ended when he can issue letters of marque to himself, hoist sail, square
away, and go cruising all over this metropolis at his own sweet will."

CHAPTER XIV

In the meanwhile, at the other end of the wire, Mr. Keen, the Tracer of
Lost Persons, was preparing to trace for Mr. Kerns, against that
gentleman's will, the true happiness which Mr. Kerns had never been able
to 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 a
single and attentive rank. In this rank were five men: a policeman, a
cab driver, an agent of the telephone company, an agent of the electric
company, and a reformed burglar carrying a kit of his trade tools.

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

"I want the number on 36 East Eighty-third Street changed to No. 38, and
the number 38 replaced by No. 36," he said to the policeman. "I want it
done at once. Get a glazier and go up there and have it finished in an
hour. Mrs. Kenna, caretaker at No. 36, is in my pay; she will not
interfere. There is nobody in No. 38: Mr. Kerns leaves there to-night
and 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 the
Lenox Club. If he calls you before eleven, drive into the park and have
an accident. And you," to the agent of the telephone company, "will
sever all telephone connection in Mrs. Stanley's house; and you," to the
official 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 no
electric bell sound."

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

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

"Good evening," he said pleasantly. "I suppose you have just arrived
from Rosylyn. I may be a little late--I may be very late, in fact, so I
called you up to say so. And I wished to say another thing; to ask you
whether your