as "a good fellow" in a sense of the phrase that
requires quotation marks. Mrs. Sally Owen, whose opinion in all matters
pertaining to her fellow citizens is not to be slighted, fearlessly
asked Thatcher to dinner at her house. She expressed her unfavorable
opinion of his family for deserting him, and told him to his face that a
man who knew as little about horses as he did should have a guardian.

"He's in town somewhere," said the city editor; "don't come back and
tell me you can't find him. Try the Country Club, where he was never
known to go, and the University Club, where he doesn't belong, and all
the other unlikely places you can think of. The other boys have thrown
up their hands."

Dan had several times been fortunate in like quests for men in hiding,
and he had that confidence in his luck which is part of the good
reporter's endowment. He called all the clubs and the Thatcher residence
by telephone. The clubs denied all knowledge of Edward G. Thatcher, and
his residence answered not at all; whereupon Harwood took the trolley
for the Thatcher mansion in the new quarter of Meridian Street beyond
the peaceful shores of Fall Creek. A humorist who described the passing
show from the stern of a rubber-neck wagon for the instruction of
tourists announced on every round that "This is Edward G. Thatcher's
residence; it contains twelve bath-rooms, and cost seventy-five thousand
dollars four years ago. The family have lived in it three months. Does
it pay to be rich?"

As Harwood entered the grounds the house loomed darkly before him. Most
of the houses in this quarter were closed for the summer, but Dan
assumed that there must be some sort of caretaker on the premises and he
began patiently punching the front-door bell. Failing of any response,
he next tried a side door and finally the extreme rear. He had begun to
feel discouraged when, as he approached the front entrance for a second
assault, he saw a light flash beyond the dark blinds. The door opened
cautiously, and a voice gruffly bade him begone.

"I have a message for Mr. Thatcher; it's very important--"

"Mr. Thatcher not at home; nobody home," growled a voice in broken
English. "You get right off dis place, quick!"

Dan thrust his walking-stick into the small opening to guard against
having the door slammed in his face and began a parley that continued
for several minutes with rising heat on the part of the caretaker. The
man's rage at being unable to clo