“And I’m hanged if I don’t pay him off and make him happy, too!” muttered Gatewood.  “Does he think I’m going to sit still and see him go tearing and gyrating about town with no responsibility, no moral check to his evolutions, no wholesome home duties to limit his acrobatics, no wife to clip his wings?  It’s time he had somebody to report to; time he assumed moral burdens and spiritual responsibilities.  A man is just as happy when he is certain where he is going to sleep.  A man can find just as much enjoyment in life when he feels it his duty to account for his movements.  I don’t care whether Kerns is comparatively happy or not—­there’s nothing either sacred or holy in that kind of happiness, and I’m not going to endure the sort of life he likes any longer!”

Immersed in moral reflections, inspired by affectionate obligations to violently inflict happiness upon Kerns, the minutes passed very agreeably until the amused voice of the Tracer of Lost Persons sounded again in the receiver.

“Mr. Gatewood?”

“Yes, I am here, Mr. Keen.”

“Do you really think it best for Mr. Kerns to fall in love?”

“I do, certainly!” replied Gatewood with emphasis.

“Because,” continued the Tracer of Lost Persons, “I see little chance for him to do otherwise if I take up this case.  Fate itself, in the shape of a young lady, is already on the way here in a railroad train.”

“Good!  Good!” exclaimed Gatewood.  “Don’t let him escape, Mr. Keen!  I beg of you to take up his case!  I urge you most seriously to do so.  Mr. Kerns is now exactly what I was a year ago—­an utterly useless member of the community—­a typical bachelor who lives at his clubs, shirking the duties of a decent citizen.”

“Exactly,” said the Tracer.  “Do you insist that I take this case?  That I attempt to trace and find for Mr. Kerns a sort of happiness he himself has never found?”

“I implore you to do so, Mr. Keen.”

“Exactly.  If I do—­if I carry it out as it has been arranged—­or rather as the case seems to have already arranged itself, for it is rather a simple matter, I fancy—­I do not exactly see how Mr. Kerns can avoid experiencing a—­ahem—­a tender sentiment for the very charming young lady whom I—­and chance—­have designed for him as a partner through life.”

“Excellent!  Splendid!” shouted Gatewood through the telephone.  “Can I do anything to aid you in this?”

“Yes,” replied the Tracer, laughing.  “If you can keep him amused for an hour or two before he goes after his suit case it might make it easier for me.  This young lady is due to arrive in New York at eight o’clock—­a client of mine—­coming to consult me.  Her presence plays an important part in Mr. Kerns’s future.  I wish you to detain Mr. Kerns until she is ready to receive him.  But of this he must know nothing.  Good-by, Mr. Gatewood, and would you be kind enough to present my compliments to Mrs. Gatewood?”