The Tracer of Lost Persons | Page 5

It is not fair that you should
undertake it on other terms. I desire to make a special arrangement with
you. Do you mind?"
"What arrangement had you contemplated?" inquired Keen, amused.
"Only this: charge me in advance exactly what you would charge if
successful. And, on the other hand, do not ask me for detailed
information--I mean, do not insist on any information that I decline to
give. Do you mind taking up such an extraordinary and unbusinesslike
proposition, Mr. Keen?"
The Tracer of Lost Persons looked up sharply:
"About how much information do you decline to give, Mr. Gatewood?"
"About enough to incriminate and degrade," replied the young man,
laughing.
The elderly gentleman sat silent, apparently buried in meditation. Once
or twice his pleasant steel-gray eyes wandered over Gatewood as an
expert, a connoisseur, glances at a picture and assimilates its history, its
value, its artistic merit, its every detail in one practiced glance.
"I think we may take up this matter for you, Mr. Gatewood," he said,
smiling his singularly agreeable smile.
"But--but you would first desire to know something about me--would
you not?"
Keen looked at him: "You will not mistake me--you will consider it
entirely inoffensive--if I say that I know something about you, Mr.
Gatewood?"
"About me? How can you? Of course, there is the social register and
the club lists and all that--"

"And many, many sources of information which are necessary in such a
business as this, Mr. Gatewood. It is a necessity for us to be almost as
well informed as our clients' own lawyers. I could pay you no sincerer
compliment than to undertake your case. I am half inclined to do so
even without a retainer. Mind, I haven't yet said that I will take it."
"I prefer to regulate any possible indebtedness in advance," said
Gatewood.
"As you wish," replied the older man, smiling. "In that case, suppose
you draw your check" (he handed Gatewood a fountain pen as the
young man fished a check-book from his pocket)--"your check
for--well, say for $5,000, to the order of Keen & Co."
Gatewood met his eye without wincing; he was in for it now; and he
was always perfectly game. He had brought it upon himself; it was his
own proposition. Not that he would have for a moment considered the
sum as high--or any sum exorbitant--if there had been a chance of
success; one cannot compare and weigh such matters. But how could
there be any chance for success?
As he slowly smoothed out the check and stub, pen poised, Keen was
saying: "Of course, we should succeed sooner or later--if we took up
your case. We might succeed to-morrow--to-day. That would mean a
large profit for us. But we might not succeed to-day, or next month, or
even next year. That would leave us little or no profit; and, as it is our
custom to go on until we do succeed, no matter how long it may require,
you see, Mr. Gatewood, I should be taking all sorts of chances. It might
even cost us double your retainer before we found her--"
"Her? How did--why do you say 'her'?"
"Am I wrong?" asked Keen, smiling.
"No--you are right."
The Tracer of Lost Persons sank into abstraction again. Gatewood
waited, hoping that his case might be declined, yet ready to face any

music started at his own request.
"She is young," mused Keen aloud, "very beautiful and accomplished.
Is she wealthy?" He looked up mildly.
Gatewood said: "I don't know--the truth is I don't care--" And stopped.
"O-ho!" mused Keen slowly. "I--think--I understand. Am I wrong, Mr.
Gatewood, in surmising that this young lady whom you seek is, in your
eyes, very--I may say ideally gifted?"
"She is my ideal," replied the young man, coloring.
"Exactly. And--her general allure?"
"Charming!"
"Exactly; but to be a trifle more precise--if you could give me a sketch,
an idea, a mere outline delicately tinted, now. Is she more blond than
brunette?"
"Yes--but her eyes are brown. I--I insist on that."
"Why should you not? You know her; I don't," said Keen, laughing. "I
merely wished to form a mental picture. . . . You say her hair is--is--"
"It's full of sunny color; that's all I can say."
"Exactly--I see. A rare and lovely combination with brown eyes and
creamy skin, Mr. Gatewood. I fancy she might be, perhaps, an inch or
two under your height?"
"Just about that. Her hands should be--are beautiful--"
"Exactly. The ensemble is most vividly portrayed, Mr. Gatewood;
and--you have intimated that her lack of fortune--er--we might almost
say her pecuniary distress--is more than compensated for by her
accomplishments, character, and very unusual beauty. . . . Did I so
understand you, Mr. Gatewood?"

"That's what I meant, anyhow," he