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Page 10
"A little past," said Meeks.
The detective conducted the Westerner to a branch advertising office of
one of the largest dailies. There he wrote the following "ad" and
submitted it to Meeks:
"Wanted, at once -- one hundred attractive chorus girls for a new musical
comedy. Apply all day at No.- Broadway."
Meeks was indignant.
"My sister," said he, "is a poor, hard-working, elderly woman. I do not
see what aid an advertisement of this kind would be toward finding her."
"All right," said the detective. "I guess you don't know New York. But
if you've got a grouch against this scheme we'll try the other one. It's
a sure thing. But it'll cost you more."
"Never mind the expense," said Meeks; "we'll try it."
The sleuth led him back to the Waldorf. "Engage a couple of bedrooms and
a parlour," he advised, "and let's go up."
This was done, and the two were shown to a superb suite on the fourth
floor. Meeks looked puzzled. The detective sank into a velvet armchair,
and pulled out his cigar case.
"I forgot to suggest, old man," he said, "that you should have taken the
rooms by the month. They wouldn't have stuck you so much for em.
"By the month!" exclaimed Meeks. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, it'll take time to work the game this way. I told you it would cost
you more. We'll have to wait till spring. There'll be a new city
directory out then. Very likely your sister's name and address will be in
it."
Meeks rid himself of the city detective at once. On the next day some one
advised him to consult Shamrock Jolnes, New York's famous private
detective, who demanded fabulous fees, but performed miracles in the way
of solving mysteries and crimes.
After waiting for two hours in the anteroom of the great detective's
apartment, Meeks was shown into his presence. Jolnes sat in a purple
dressing-gown at an inlaid ivory chess table, with a magazine before him,
trying to solve the mystery of "They." The famous sleuth's thin,
intellectual face, piercing eyes, and rate per word are too well known to
need description.
Meeks set forth his errand. "My fee, if successful, will be $500," said
Shamrock Jolnes.
Meeks bowed his agreement to the price.
"I will undertake your case, Mr. Meeks," said Jolnes, finally. "The
disappearance of people in this city has always been an interesting
problem to me. I remember a case that I brought to a successful outcome a
year ago. A family bearing the name of Clark disappeared suddenly from a
small flat in which they were living. I watched the flat building for two
months for a clue. One day it struck me that a certain milkman and a
grocer's boy always walked backward when they carried their wares
upstairs. Following out by induction the idea that this observation gave
me, I at once located the missing family. They had moved into the flat
across the hall and changed their name to Kralc."
Shamrock Jolnes and his client went to the tenement house where Mary
Snyder had lived, and the detective demanded to be shown the room in which
she had lived. It had been occupied by no tenant since her disappearance.
The room was small, dingy, and poorly furnished. Meeks seated himself
dejectedly on a broken chair, while the great detective searched the walls
and floor and the few sticks of old, rickety furniture for a clue.
At the end of half an hour Jolnes had collected a few seemingly
unintelligible articles -- a cheap black hat pin, a piece torn off a
theatre programme, and the end of a small torn card on which was the word
"left" and the characters "C 12."
Shamrock Jolnes leaned against the mantel for ten minutes, with his head
resting upon his hand, and an absorbed look upon his intellectual face.
At the end of that time he exclaimed, with animation:
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