The thought of detectives, in this connection, led him to decide that he was likely to be shadowed.  That was the most natural thing for his opponents to do.  They could not prove Mershone’s complicity in the disappearance of Louise Merrick, but they might easily suspect him, after that little affair of Weldon’s arrest.  Therefore if he went to the girl now he was likely to lead others to her.  Better be cautious and wait until he had thrown the sleuths off his track.

Having considered this matter thoroughly, Mershone decided to remain quiet.  By eight o’clock he was breakfasting in the grill room, and Fogerty occupied a table just behind him.

During the meal it occurred to Charlie to telephone to Madame Cerise for assurance that Louise had arrived safely and without a scene to attract the attention of strangers.  Having finished breakfast he walked into the telephone booth and was about to call his number when a thought struck him.  He glanced out of the glass door.  In the hotel lobby were many loungers.  He saw a dozen pairs of eyes fixed upon him idly or curiously; one pair might belong to the suspected detective.  If he used the telephone there would be a way of discovering the number he had asked for.  That would not do—­not at all!  He concluded not to telephone, at present, and left the booth.  His next act was to purchase a morning paper, and seating himself carelessly in a chair he controlled the impulse to search for a “scare head” on the abduction of Miss Merrick.  If he came across the item, very well; he would satisfy no critical eye that might be scanning him by hunting for it with a show of eagerness.  The game was in his hands, he believed, and he intended to keep it there.

Fogerty was annoyed by the man’s evident caution.  It would not be easy to surprise Mershone in any self-incriminating action.  But, after all, reflected the boy, resting comfortably in the soft-padded cushions of a big leather chair, all this really made the case the more interesting.  He was rather glad Mershone was in no hurry to precipitate a climax.  A long stern chase was never a bad chase.

By and bye another idea occurred to Charlie.  He would call upon his cousin Diana, and get her to telephone Madame Cerise for information about Louise.  It would do no harm to enlighten Diana as to what he had done.  She must suspect it already; and was she not a co-conspirator?  But he could not wisely make this call until the afternoon.  So meantime he took a stroll into Broadway and walked leisurely up and down that thoroughfare, pausing occasionally to make a trifling purchase and turning abruptly again and again in the attempt to discover who might be following him.  No one liable to be a detective of any sort could he discern; yet he was too shrewd to be lulled into a false belief that his each and every act was unobserved.

Mershone returned to his hotel, went to his room, and slept until after one o’clock, as he had secured but little rest the night before in his primitive quarters at the police station.  It was nearly two when he reappeared in the hotel restaurant for luncheon, and he took his seat and ate with excellent appetite.