As the congregation dispersed Job also passed out, and took a position on the sidewalk, where, without attracting attention, he could observe the retiring crowd.  The bulk of the congregation had left the church; a few ladies in pairs, still lingered, when the minister, accompanied by a young man of athletic build, came out through what seemed to be a vestry door, and would have gone by without especially attracting Worth’s attention, but for the words of the clergyman as they stopped directly in front of the detective.

“Well, good-by, Thorne,” he said, “I’ll be around to chat a while with you in a couple of hours at the Commercial.”

They parted, the preacher going in one direction in company with several ladies, and the man he called Thorne in the opposite.

Worth instantly recalled the photograph owned by the girl at his boarding place and followed the man whom he heard addressed as Thorne.  There was nothing remarkable in his appearance, however, nor was there anything to remind him that he had before seen him.  He was a good looking man, perhaps twenty-five years of age, of medium size, broad shoulders, and elastic step.  He seemed to be in no haste, for he moved leisurely along his way.  Every person he met seemed to recognize him, and he in most affable manner returned their greetings.

Soon a dignified old gentleman approached, and holding out both hands said:  “Good morning, George.  How is your father today?”

“Good morning, Judge,” responded the young man.  “I saw father just before I came to church; he is much better, thank you.”

“Ah! that is good,” said the old gentleman, as he passed on.  “Give my love to him.”

“Surely, I’m off scent this time,” muttered Job to himself, as he slowly followed in the steps of the young man.

Entering the Commercial Hotel, he stepped up to the desk, and turned over the pages of the register.  Presently he found the name of George Thornly, room 104.  Ah! this was the man he had followed.  He had missed the last syllable of the name.  It was Thornly instead of Thorne.  He was now certainly at sea.  Moving away, disgusted with himself, he walked through the spacious office, and almost ran into a man as he reached the door.  Both men exclaimed in mutual surprise, “Hello!” Neither pronounced the name of the other, and yet both spoke it mentally.

Worth was the first to recover, and said:  “Pardon me, I thought I recognized a friend; possibly I’m mistaken; my name is Worth.  May I ask yours?”

“O,” replied the other, “I have heard of you.  You are connected with the Legation in Washington.”

“Well,” replied Worth, “I was secretary, but have resigned.  Where have I met you—­somewhere, I’m pretty certain.  Was it in Washington?  One is apt to forget names, when meeting so many.”

With a slight hesitancy the other answered:  “My name is Thorne.  I’m a stranger here.  Are you stopping here?” The young man was evidently nervous, and spoke in an uneasy manner.