“In that case some of the door-keepers would have seen him,” replied Larry, and that closed this phase of the matter.
The boy’s hat and light coat were found in his mother’s dressing-room, showing that he had been taken away suddenly, and without time for the plotters to properly attire him for going out. Or perhaps they had brought along a cap and a coat for him. This was likely.
“There are almost as many ends to this case as there were to the bank mystery,” mused Larry when his questioning had brought him no new clews. “But I’ll find something sooner or later.”
He even questioned the musicians, for he thought it possible that Lorenzo might have, in some way, slipped down into the under-stage apartment set aside for the use of the orchestra. But none of them had seen the stolen lad.
Baffled, but not discouraged, Larry went home, hoping that the morning would bring some new information. It did not, though he managed to get a story concerning the activities of his friend, Detective Nyler, who had made a search of Parloti’s rooms in the hotel. There had been no trace of the stolen boy there.
“But I found out the name of the fellow you saw in the room,” said the officer. “One of those who were in the back of the theater, and to whom Parloti signaled.”
“Well, it may be a fake one, but Parloti called him Giovanni Ferrot. So you can put that down as part of a clew, though it doesn’t amount to much.”
“And where is Ferrot?”
“Gone. Nobody knows where. But I’m going to look for him. I have a good description of him.”