he left Lithuania as a
boy until he was last seen gettin' a light for his cigar from the
butler. We got all his habits outlined; how he always slept with a
corner of the sheet over his right ear, couldn't eat strawberries
without breaking out in blotches, and could hardly be dragged out to see
a show or go to an evening party where there were ladies. Yet here on a
visit to Villa Nova he goes and strays off like he'd lost his mind, or
gets himself kidnapped, or worse.

"Why," says Mr. Robert, "it sounds like a real mystery, almost a case
for a Sherlock Holmes."

I don't know why, either, but just then he glances at me. "By Jove!" he
goes on. "Here you are, Torchy. What do you make out of this?"

"Me?" says I. "Just about what you do, I expect."

"Oh, come!" says he. "Put that rapid fire brain of yours to work. Try
him, Mr. Zosco. I've known him to unravel stranger things than this. I
would even venture to say that he has hit on a clue while we've been
talking."

Course, a good deal of it is Mr. Robert's josh. He's always springin'
that line. But Zosco, after he's looked me over keen, shrugs his
shoulders doubtful. Mrs. Jake, though, is ready to grab at anything.

"Can you find him?" she asks, starin' at me. "Will you, young man?"

Also I gets an encouragin', admirin' glance from Vee. That settles it. I
was bound to make some sort of play after that. Besides, I did have kind
of a vague hunch.

"I ain't promisin' anything," says I, "but I'll give it a whirl. First
off though, maybe you can tell me what youth around the place wears a
black-and-white checked cap?"

That gets a quick rise out of the former Myrtle Mapes, now Mrs. Zosco.
"Why--why," says she, "my brother Ellery does."

"That's so," put in Zosco. "Where is the youngster?"

"Ellery?" says Myrtle, givin' him that innocent baby-doll look. "Oh, he
must be in his room. I--I will look."

"Never mind," says I. "Probably he is. It doesn't matter. Visiting here,
too, eh? How long? About two weeks. And he comes from----"

"From my old home, Shelby, North Carolina," says she. "But he isn't the
one who's missing, you know."

"That's so," says I. "Gettin' off the track, wasn't I? Shows what a poor
sleuth I am. And now if I can have the missing man's hat I'll do a
little scoutin' round outside."

"His hat!" grumbles Zosco. "What do you want with that?"

"Why," says I, "if I find anyone it fits it's likely to be Jake, ain't
it?"

"Of course," says Matilda