"Maybe he's mixed up in it, and maybe he isn't. I wouldn't go and connect him with any gamblin' syndicate just because I found that there card under the sweatband of his Stetson. What do you allow is the thing for us to do? My hand's on the table, Clancy, and I want you to help me play it."
"Strikes me," said Clancy reflectively, "that the best move is to go across to Catalina Island and talk with this man Lopez."
"I allowed we'd better, advertise in the papers," remarked Hill. "We could use the Lost and Found Column."
"How?"
"Well, we could say, 'Lost–One man about fifty with a squinch eye, a Roman nose, and a mole on the back of his neck. Answers to name of Upton Hill. Communicate with Hiram Hill, Renfrew House, City.' And then we could put in another, like this: 'Found–One black Stetson, initials "U. H." in crown. Picked up corner Sixth and Maine time the chink dragon went to pieces. Communicate with Hiram Hill, and so forth.' I don't see any use in huntin' up this Lopez."
"Your father must have, business, with Lopez, Hiram, or he wouldn't be having the Mexican's card. Would he?"
"I reckon not."
"It's likely your father is over at Catalina now. If we go to the island and hunt up Lopez, there's a chance of our locating Upton Hill–or the man you think is Upton Hill."
"Maybe you're right," said Hill.
"I don't think advertising would do any good. Your supposed father didn't seem very enthusiastic about meeting you, the time you landed on him in the automobile."