“What do you think of that?” said Roger.  “You’ll find that in the story called The Anarchist.”

“I think less than nothing of it,” said Aubrey.  “As your friend Don Marquis observed the other evening, an idea isn’t always to be blamed for the people who believe in it.  Mr. Conrad has been reading some quack ads, that’s all.  Because there are fake ads, that doesn’t condemn the principle of Publicity.  But look here, what I really came round to see you for is to show you this.  It was in the Times this morning.”

He pulled out of his pocket a clipping of the lost insertion to which Roger’s attention had already been drawn.

“Yes, I’ve just seen it,” said Roger.  “I missed the book from my shelves, and I believe someone must have stolen it.”

“Well, now, I want to tell you something,” said Aubrey.  “To-night I had dinner at the Octagon with Mr. Chapman.”  “Is that so?” said Roger.  “You know his daughter’s here now.”

“So he told me.  It’s rather interesting how it all works out.  You see, after you told me the other day that Miss Chapman was coming to work for you, that gave me an idea.  I knew her father would be specially interested in Brooklyn, on that account, and it suggested to me an idea for a window-display campaign here in Brooklyn for the Daintybits Products.  You know we handle all his sales promotion campaigns.  Of course I didn’t let on that I knew about his daughter coming over here, but he told me about it himself in the course of our talk.  Well, here’s what I’m getting at.  We had dinner in the Czecho-Slovak Grill, up on the fourteenth floor, and going up in the elevator I saw a man in a chef’s uniform carrying a book.  I looked over his shoulder to see what it was.  I thought of course it would be a cook-book.  It was a copy of Oliver Cromwell.”

“So he found it again, eh?  I must go and have a talk with that chap.  If he’s a Carlyle fan I’d like to know him.”

“Wait a minute.  I had seen the lost ad in the paper this morning, because I always look over that column.  Often it gives me ideas for advertising stunts.  If you keep an eye on the things people are anxious to get back, you know what they really prize, and if you know what they prize you can get a line on what goods ought to be advertised more extensively.  This was the first time I had ever noticed a lost ad for a book, so I thought to myself “the book business is coming up.”  Well, when I saw the chef with the book in his hand, I said to him jokingly, “I see you found it again.”  He was a foreign-looking fellow, with a big beard, which is unusual for a chef, because I suppose it’s likely to get in the soup.  He looked at me as though I’d run a carving knife into him, almost scared me the way he looked.  “Yes, yes,” he said, and shoved the book out of sight under his arm.  He seemed half angry and half frightened, so I thought maybe he had no right to be riding in