a plan I then set in motion. I have a friend in
London of the name of Flynn. He is an American newspaper man. Flynn says
he would like to be a "journalist," but needs the money; therefore he
continues to be a newspaper man, and he is a good one.

Flynn is connected with one of the big news associations and after
drifting with the tide of cab and omnibus traffic which gorges on Fleet
Street, I finally located him in an office in New Bridge Street. I had
not seen him in five years.

"Hello, Smith!" he exclaimed, placidly as if we had spent the preceding
evening together. "When did you strike town?"

"Last night," I said, heartily shaking hands.

"I see that you recently put a crimp in that Wall Street gang," he
observed, lighting a cigarette and leaning back in his chair. "You were
in with Harding on that deal, weren't you?"

"Yes," I said, "and I'm looking for him."

I briefly told him of the death of my uncle, and explained that Harding
had left suddenly and that it was necessary I should locate him without
delay.

"He was in London stopping at the Savoy a week ago," said Flynn, after
consulting a record book. "I sent a man to see him and he wouldn't be
seen. No use for you to go there; they won't tell you where he went."

"But can you help me locate him?" I eagerly asked.

"Certainly I can, provided you stand the tolls," he said. "Electricity
is as rapid here as in the United States, and if this magnate is on one
of these islands we can get his address in four or five hours, if we
have any kind of luck. Suppose we wire the twenty larger cities and
towns, about the same number of summer resorts, and the leading golf
centres?"

"Great scheme, Flynn!" I declared, "you're a natural detective."

"Natural nothing," growled that clever individual, "it's a part of the
regular grind. It should be no great trick to find a man worth thirty
millions in an area not much bigger than Illinois."

He wrote a telegram, dictated the list of places to his stenographer and
turned to me.

"Any engagement for dinner?" he asked, and when I said I had none he
suggested we go to the Savage Club. We did so, and that dinner was the
first enjoyable episode in many dismal weeks. The quiet charm of the old
club, together with its famous ale, had a soothing effect on my nerves,
and after several pleasant hours we took a cab back to his office.

Flynn disappeared for a minute and when he returned he handed me a stack
of telegrams.