ing that compelled him to make it
his vocation. But his employment in this wise was known only to the head
of the agency with which he had associated himself, and to a few trusted
intimates. The better to guard his secret he adopted the plebeian alias
of Jack Scott for professional purposes instead of his own aristocratic
name.

He had first won the admiring attention of the detective agency's chief
by an exploit when he was only eighteen years of age. At that time his
mother was robbed of a fabulously valuable pearl necklace. Extraordinary
rewards were offered for its recovery, and detectives big and small
hunted high and low for the gems. They failed utterly in their search.
But the lad worked out a theory as to the theft, gained evidence to
prove it the truth--in short, within a fortnight, he had recovered the
pearls, and the thieves were safely lodged in jail.

Already at this early age, the boy was profoundly interested in uplift
work among criminals. When his mother smilingly turned over to him the
reward she had offered for the recovery of her necklace, he devoted the
whole sum to this charitable work. And ever since he had made a like
disposal of the proceeds from his professional services. Now, Roy
recognized in the detective assigned to him by the agency, an
acquaintance of his own, Arthur Van Dusen. He expressed his astonishment
at this revelation concerning one whom he had regarded merely as a
social butterfly. But explanations were soon made, and Roy could not
doubt Van Dusen's ability since it was guaranteed by the agency.

He immediately made known his need of help.

"I'm afraid," he began with a tremor of anxiety in his voice, "that you
have been assigned to a case which will prove hard to solve. The woman I
love--the woman I had expected to marry soon--has been taken from me in
a most mysterious way. Somehow she's been kidnapped, and taken to sea a
prisoner on her father's yacht."

"Her name?" Van Dusen demanded crisply as the speaker paused.

"It's Ethel Marion," Roy answered huskily. "The daughter of Colonel
Stephen Marion, who, at present, is with his regiment on the Mexican
Border." He drew Ethel's message from his pocket and extended it to the
detective.

"The only clue I have," he continued, "is this letter from her. She
managed somehow to toss it near enough to a fisherman's dory so that
they picked it up, and forwarded it to my mother's camp in the
Adirondacks. I wired the Collector of t