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The Tracer of Lost Persons

The Tracer of Lost Persons

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 2184    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

elaborate rooms at the Lenox Club, a larger income than seemed to be good for him, and no profession. It follows that he was a pessimist before breakfast. Besides, it'

invitation to enter was not very cordial. He of the buttons knocked again to take t

ents, and wishes to know if 'e may 'ave

wist to his tie, inserted a pearl scarf pin,

lattered," he replied morosel

sir? Y

f the sleek club valets

en

ir

e waistcoat, if y

laid out h

wear when I'm away, Henr

ir

and don't roll up your eyes. I mere

good

moke may injure you. I've attempted to conceal the keys, but you will, o

', sir," returned

-Hen

th martyr

pin, just find it, for a change. I'd like to wear that

r; I will 'unt

auntered down to the sunny breakfast room, where he found Kerns inspecting a

bserved Ke

telephone," sn

don; how are yo

d Gatewood irritably; "how the d

o the bowwows, as u

lark. Why should I, with this taste in my mouth, and the laundress using vitriol, and Henry sneering at my cigars?" He yawned and cast his eyes toward the ceil

amber-tinted accessory were brought for the other and sampled without mirth. Howev

ng the paper aside, "is a job-any

t to make an

e a lot and be scared into thanking Heaven for car

be amiable enoug

may be tolerated after five o'clock; when you're fifty your wife and

if

ied Kerns, as he ca

wise enough not to overdo it. An interval

," muttered Gatewood

hicket where the prettiest kind in all the world grow under glass or outdoors? And what do you do? You used to pretend to prowl about inspecting the yearly crop of posies, growling,

Gatewood sulkily, "but I know she exist

sure,

shioned for me alone. That's a theory of mine; you needn'

r consider that if your ideal does exist som

ten years? You don't expect me to adverti

n fact, that's why I subjected myself to the ordeal of breakfasting with you. It

tranquilly lighting a cigare

uch a good time in this world that you do

ell, let it

have one decent trait left: you really would lik

Gatewood guardedly, "for y

there's a

thing like that!" began Gatewood sullenly. "

ll I desire to say is this: I do know a way.

N &

OF LOS

Keen & Co. might operate, and I wondered a little, too, that, the conditions of life in this city could e

light a cigarette, partl

me?" inquired Gatewood curio

try Kee

I haven't lost a

emains that you can't find somebody," returned Kerns

hom, in Hea

r id

crazy. How the mischief can anybody

hat she do

n't prove

to Keen & Co. to prove it.

perhaps, be able to trace the concrete, but ho

, healthy, and youthful concrete obj

I prove s

have to; th

suppose that if I were ass enough to go to these pe

tell th

t h

r as minutely as you please. Then, when they locate a girl of that description they'll notify you; you will go, judge for yourself whether she

it!" said Ga

. You haven't many mental resources, an

ood g

y of putting things thi

cular-which is the sort of man this nation needs. Do you want to turn into a club-window gazer like Van Bronk? Do you want to become another Courtlandt Allerton and go rocking down the avenue-a grimacing, tailor-made sepulcher?-the pompous obsequies of a dead intellect?-a funeral on two wave

ts a rake off, and the cook is red-headed and comes from Sligo, and the butler's cousin will bear watching, and the chauffeur is a Frenchman, and the coachman's uncle is a Harlem vet, and every scullion in the establishment lies, drinks, steals, and supports twenty satiated relatives at your expense. That would mean the making of you; for, after all, Jack, you are no genius-you're a p

ected that sort of thing from Kerns. That is why, no doubt, the opinions expresse

I'm going to the office; see you this evening?" Gatewood repli

. "Was there anything you wished to a

No, I don'

ght care to know where Ke

atewood firmly

yway," rejoined Kerns, scribbling i

ed in conscience, satisfied that he had done his dut

ry lady that doesn't exist, the more anxious and impatient poor old Jack Gatewood will become, until he'll catch the fever and go cantering about with that one fixed idea in his head. And," added Kerns softly, "no New Yorker in his right mind can

horter to incite o

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