CHAPTER XII
THE SPYING OF TOT TYLER
Mr. Burthon was like many other men accustomed to modern business methods: he believed there was always an indirect way to accomplish whatever he desired. Also, like many others who have little or no use for such a contrivance, he owned a motor car. His chauffeur was a little, wizen featured man named Totham Tyler, familiarly called “Tot” by his chums, a chauffeur who knew automobiles backward and forward and might have progressed beyond his present station had he not been recognized as so “tricky” that no one had any confidence in him.
About two weeks after Orissa had left the office Mr. Burthon said to his man one morning:
“Tyler, would you like to do a little detective work?”
“Anything to oblige, sir,” answered Totham, pricking up his ears.
“Have you ever met a fellow around town named Kane?”
“Steve Kane, sir? Oh, yes. He used to be foreman of Cunningham’s repair shop. Quit there some time ago, I believe. Clever fellow, sir, this Kane.”
“Yes; he has invented a new sort of aëroplane.”
Tyler whistled, reflectively. All motor car people have a penchant for flying. As Mr. Cumberford would have said: it “interests them.”
“Kane is keeping the matter a secret,” continued Mr. Burthon, “and I’m curious to know what he’s up to. Find out, Tyler, and let me know.”