He opened the desk and made an elaborate search for what he knew he should not find.
“It’s no use,” he said, after a pause. “It’s disappeared.”
“What was the appearance of the person?” persisted Mr. Perkins.
“He was—tall, and—yes, with a dark complexion and—and side whiskers.”
“About how old?”
“I should say about forty.”
“I know plenty of people answering that description. But how did he happen to call on you?”
“There you have me. He had some business with Mr. Fairchild, and unfortunately Mr. F. started West this morning.”
“I see. I can get no clew to the mystery. However, I am glad to have made the acquaintance of this young man,” indicating Chester.
“Oh, you mean our office boy,” returned Mullins, coldly.