Immersed in bitter reflection, he climbed the familiar stairway and sent his card to Mr. Keen, and in due time he was ushered into the presence of the Tracer of Lost Persons.

“Mr. Keen,” he began, with a headlong desire to get it over and be done with it, “I may as well tell you how impossible it is for you, or anybody, to find that person I described—­”

Mr. Keen raised an expostulatory hand, smiling indulgence.

“It is more than possible, Mr. Gatewood, more than probable; it is almost an accomplished fact.  In other words, I think I may venture to congratulate you and say that she is found.”

“Now, how can she be found, when there isn’t—­”

“Mr. Gatewood, the magician will always wave his magic wand for you and show you his miracles for the price of admission.  But for that price he does not show you how he works his miracles,” said Keen, laughing.

“But I ought to tell you,” persisted Gatewood, “that it is utterly impossible you should find the person I wished to discover, because she—­”

“I can only prove that you are wrong,” smiled Keen, rising from his easy chair.

“Mr. Keen,” said the young man earnestly, “I have been more or less of a chump at times.  One of those times was when I came here on this errand.  All I desire, now, is to let the matter rest as it is.  I am satisfied, and you have lost nothing.  Nor have you found anything or anybody.  You think you have, but you haven’t.  I do not wish you to continue the search, or to send me any further reports.  I want to forget the whole miserable matter—­to be free—­to feel myself freed from any obligations to that irritating person I asked you to find.”

The Tracer regarded him very gravely.

“Is that your wish, Mr. Gatewood?  I can scarcely credit it.”

“It is.  I’ve been a fool; I simply want to stop being one if anybody will permit it.”

“And you decline to attempt to identify the very beautiful person we have discovered to be the individual for whom you asked us to search?”

“I do.  She may be beautiful; but I know well enough she can’t compare with—­some one.”

“I am sorry,” said Keen thoughtfully.  “We take so much pride in these matters.  When one of my agents discovered where this person was, I was rather—­happy; for I have taken a peculiar personal interest in your case.  However—­”

“Mr. Keen,” said Gatewood, “if you could understand how ashamed and mortified I am at my own conduct—­”

Keen gazed pensively out of the window.  “I also am sorry; Miss Southerland was to have received a handsome bonus for her discovery—­”

“Miss S-S-S-S-outherland!”

“Exactly; without quite so many S’s,” said Keen, smiling.

“Did she discover that—­that person?” exclaimed the young man, startled.

“She thinks she has.  I am not sure she is correct; but I am absolutely certain that Miss Southerland could eventually discover the person you were in search of.  It seems a little hard on her—­just on the eve of success—­to lose.  But that can’t be helped now.”