“One cent, if you look yourself; three cents, if we look,” said the boy, producing a thick volume from beneath the counter.

“One cent?” said Lawrence, smiling at the oddity of this charge, as he opened the book and turned to the letter K.

“Yes,” said the boy, “and if the fine print hurts your eyes, we’ll look for three cents.”

At this moment a man came from one of the desks at the other end of the room, and handed the boy a letter with which that young person immediately departed.  The new-comer, a smooth-shaven man of about thirty, with the air of the proprietor or head manager very strong upon him, took the boy’s position behind the counter, and remarked to Lawrence:  “Most people, when they first come here, think it rather queer to pay for looking at the directory, but you see we don’t keep a directory to coax people to come in to buy medicines or anything else.  We sell nothing but information, and part of our stock is what you get out of a directory.  But it’s the best plan all round, for we can afford to give you a clean, good book instead of one all jagged and worn; and as you pay your money, you feel you can look as long as you like, and come when you please.”

“It is a very good plan,” said Lawrence, closing the book, “but the name I want is not here.”

“Perhaps it is in last year’s directory,” said the man, producing another volume from under the counter.

“That wouldn’t do me much good,” said Lawrence.  “I want to know where some one resides this year.”

“It will do a great deal of good,” said the other, “for if we know where a person has lived, inquiries can be made there as to where he has gone.  Sometimes we go back three or four years, and when we have once found a man’s name, we follow him up from place to place until we can give the inquirer his present address.  What is the name you wanted, sir?  You were looking in the K’s.”

“Keswick,” said Lawrence, “Junius Keswick.”

The man ran his finger and his eyes down a column, and remarked:  “There is Keswick, but it is Peter, laborer; I suppose that isn’t the party.”

Lawrence smiled, and shook his head.

“We will take the year before that,” said the man with cheerful alacrity, heaving up another volume.  “Here’s two Keswicks,” he said in a moment, “one John, and the other Stephen W. Neither of them right?”

“No,” said Lawrence, “my man is Junius, and we need not go any farther back.  I am afraid the person I am looking for was only a sojourner in the city, and that his name did not get into the directory.  I know that he was here year before last.”

“All right, sir,” said the other, pushing aside the volume he had been consulting.  “We’ll find the man for you from the hotel books, and what is more, we can see those two Keswicks that I found last.  Perhaps they were relations of his, and he was staying with them.  If you put the matter in our hands, we’ll give you the address to-morrow night, provided it’s an ordinary case.  But if he has gone to Australia or Japan, of course, it’ll take longer.  Is it crime or relationship?”