“Good evening,” he said pleasantly.  “I suppose you have just arrived from Rosylyn.  I may be a little late—­I may be very late, in fact, so I called you up to say so.  And I wished to say another thing; to ask you whether your servants could recollect ever having seen a young man about the place, a rather attractive young man with excellent address and manners, five feet eleven inches, slim but well built, dark hair, dark eyes, and dark mustache, offering samples of Georgia marble for sale.”

“Really, Mr. Keen,” replied a silvery voice, “I have heard them say nothing about such an individual.  If you will hold the wire I will ask my maid.”  And, after a pause:  “No, Mr. Keen, my maid cannot remember any such person.  Do you think he was a confederate of that wretched butler of mine?”

“I am scarcely prepared to say that; in fact,” added Mr. Keen, “I haven’t the slightest idea that this young man could have been concerned in anything of that sort.  Only, if you should ever by any chance see such a man, detain him if possible until you can communicate with me; detain him by any pretext, by ruse, by force if you can, only detain him until I can get there.  Will you do this?”

“Certainly, Mr. Keen, if I can.  Please describe him again?”

Mr. Keen did so minutely.

“You say he sells Georgia marble by samples, which he carries in a suit case?”

“He says that he has samples of Georgia marble in his suit case,” replied the Tracer cautiously.  “It might be well, if possible, to see what he has in his suit case.”

“I will warn the servants as soon as I return to Rosylyn.  When may I expect you this evening, Mr. Keen?”

“It is impossible to say, Mrs. Stanley.  If I am not there by midnight I shall try to call next morning.”

So they exchanged civil adieus; the Tracer hung up his receiver and leaned back in his chair, smiling to himself.

“Curious,” he said, “that chance should have sent that pretty woman to me at such a time. . . .  Kerns is a fine fellow, every inch of him.  It hit him hard when he crossed with her to Southampton six years ago; it hit him harder when she married that Englishman.  I don’t wonder he never cared to marry after that brief week of her society; for she is just about the most charming woman I have ever met—­red hair and all. . . .  And if quick action is what is required, it’s well to break the ice between them at once with a dreadful misunderstanding.”

CHAPTER XV

The dinner that Kerns had planned for himself and Gatewood was an ingenious one, cunningly contrived to discontent Gatewood with home fare and lure him by its seductive quality into frequent revisits to the club which was responsible for such delectable wines and viands.

A genial glow already enveloped Gatewood and pleasantly suffused Kerns.  From time to time they held some rare vintage aloft, squinting through the crystal-imprisoned crimson with deep content.