The strength and efficiency of a detective agency does not lie in the name at the top of its letter-paper, but in the unknown personnel of the men who are doing or shirking the work.  I believe that most of the principals of the many agencies throughout the United States are animated by a serious desire to give their clients a full return for their money and loyal and honest service.  But the best intentions in the world cannot make up for the lack of untiring vigilance in supervising the men who are being employed in the client’s service.

It is the right here that the “national” has an immense advantage over the small agency which cannot afford to keep a large staff of men constantly on hand, but is forced to engage them temporarily as they may be needed.  The “national” agency can shift its employees from place to place as their services are required, and the advantages of centralization are felt as much in this sort of work as in any other industry.  The licensed detective who sends out a hurry call for assistants is apt to be able to get only men whom he would otherwise not employ.  In this chapter, the word “national,” as applied to a detective agency, refers not to the title under which such an agency may do its business, but to the fact that it is organized and equipped to render services all over the country.

In this connection it is worth noticing that the best detective agencies train their own operators, selecting them from picked material.  The candidate must as rule be between twenty and thirty-five years of age, sound of body, and reasonably intelligent.  He gets pretty good wages from the start.  From the comparatively easy work of watching or “locating,” he is advanced through the more difficult varieties of “shadowing” and “trailing,” until eventually he may develop into a first-class man who will be set to unravel a murder mystery or to “rope” a professional criminal.  But with years of training the best material makes few real detectives, and the real detective remains in fact the man who sits at the mahogany desk in the central office and presses the row of mother of pearl buttons in front of him.

If you know the heads or superintendents of the large agencies you will find that the “star” cases, of which they like to talk, are, for the most part, the pursuit and capture of forgers and murderers.  The former, as a rule, are “spotted” and “trailed” to their haunts, and when sufficient evidence has been obtained the police are notified, and a raid takes place, or the arrest is made, by the State authorities.  In the case of a murderer, in a majority of cases, his capture is the result of skilful “roping” by an astute detective who manages to get into his confidence.  For example, a murder is committed by an Italian miner.  Let us suppose he has killed his “boss,” or even the superintendent or owner.  He disappears.  As the reader known, the Italians are so secretive that it is next to impossible to secure any information—­even from the relatives of the murdered man.