s of weary waiting, hunting false
clues; disappointments upon disappointments."

"I know, I know," nodded the senior partner. "That's part of the game."

"I have spent with you nearly all the money I have, and nothing has
come of it. Every now and then you raise my hopes by saying you have
found her. Then, when the news comes, you ask for more money and when
I have given it, it is again a false clue."

"That ain't our fault!" observed the stout gentleman. "My partner
follows a clue, and you can't blame him if it don't turn out exactly
the right one. This fellow Ahlmann is an eel; that's what he is, an
eel! But I think we've got him now, I'm almost sure!"

"You think?" eagerly inquired Von Barwig.

"Well, of course there's nothing absolutely sure, but this is the last
report he's sent in. Seems to me to pretty well cover the case, but
it's been a hard job. This fellow Ahlmann has completely covered his
tracks."

"The child? She--she lives?"

"Oh, yes; yes!"

"And the mother?"

"I think he's located them all. I can't tell you for sure till I read
the report again."

Von Barwig, his hands trembling with excitement, wrote a cheque for the
amount required, and with breathless impatience awaited the information
as to the whereabouts of his lost wife and child.

"They're in Chicago," said Hatch, taking up the cheque and scanning it.

"Both of them?" asked Von Barwig in a hoarse whisper.

"Both of them," repeated Hatch, conveniently remembering the detail
without reading the report. "George, bring me Mr. Bailey's telegram in
the Barwig case," and when George, a smart young office boy, brought
the required documents, he was quietly instructed by his employer to
cash Von Barwig's cheque immediately.

"When will you go?" asked Mr. Hatch.

"As soon as possible."

"To-night?"

"Yes."

"Here's the address," and Mr. Hatch handed him a card. "You'll meet my
partner there, 1120 State Avenue; he'll take you to the parties. Shall
I get your railroad tickets?"

"No. I--I get them."

"It's twenty-six hours to Chicago; you'll need a Pullman ticket."

"Thank you; I get them."

"Well, just as you say. Good luck to you, Mr. Barwig."

"Thank you," said Von Barwig simply. He did not tell Mr. Hatch that he
had nearly come to the end of his resources and that he would ride in
the day car. Not that he felt ashamed of not being able to afford
luxuries, but he instinctively resented making a confidant of