"Or stolen—papers?"
Jarvis began to look foxy.
"Or a runaway young woman?"
Jarvis thought furiously for a moment; then turning square upon his interlocutor, said, significantly: "So there are stolen papers?"
Clarence smiled, but said nothing.
"And," pursued Jarvis, "when one loses one's papers, say deeds, or a—marriage certificate, one naturally thinks of hunting the records for proofs that such papers existed."
"And that is your work?"
Jarvis nodded.
"Take you out of the city?"
"Only a few miles."