New
York to find his sister, Mrs. Mary Snyder, a widow, aged fifty-two,
who had been living for a year in a tenement house in a crowded
neighbourhood.

At her address he was told that Mary Snyder had moved away longer than
a month before. No one could tell him her new address.

On coming out Mr. Meeks addressed a policeman who was standing on the
corner, and explained his dilemma.

"My sister is very poor," he said, "and I am anxious to find her. I
have recently made quite a lot of money in a lead mine, and I want her
to share my prosperity. There is no use in advertising her, because
she cannot read."

The policeman pulled his moustache and looked so thoughtful and mighty
that Meeks could almost feel the joyful tears of his sister Mary
dropping upon his bright blue tie.

"You go down in the Canal Street neighbourhood," said the policeman,
"and get a job drivin' the biggest dray you can find. There's old
women always gettin' knocked over by drays down there. You might see
'er among 'em. If you don't want to do that you better go 'round to
headquarters and get 'em to put a fly cop onto the dame."

At police headquarters, Meeks received ready assistance. A general
alarm was sent out, and copies of a photograph of Mary Snyder that her
brother had were distributed among the stations. In Mulberry Street
the chief assigned Detective Mullins to the case.

The detective took Meeks aside and said:

"This is not a very difficult case to unravel. Shave off your
whiskers, fill your pockets with good cigars, and meet me in the cafe
of the Waldorf at three o'clock this afternoon."

Meeks obeyed. He found Mullins there. They had a bottle of wine, while
the detective asked questions concerning the missing woman.

"Now," said Mullins, "New York is a big city, but we've got the
detective business systematized. There are two ways we can go about
finding your sister. We will try one of 'em first. You say she's
fifty-two?"

"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 de