And how was it all going to work out? To be sure, the penetration of the designs of Loveman and Bradley was his real business; but he could not help himself, he was vastly more interested in what Mary might be doing, and in what was to be the end of it all for her. He called on Slant-Face; but her brother still had not seen or heard from her directly since her return to New York. He kept Loveman under surveillance, and also Bradley; the maneuvers of either might lead him to her. And also he kept watch upon Hilton, whose eyes had suddenly lighted when he had seen Mary quickly thrust her rings into her gloves. But he picked up nothing.
Clifford might have been greatly helped in his search for Mary by Commissioner Thorne: a general alarm might quickly have located her. But he did not want Mary brought before the general attention of the police. However questionable the ethics of the course her ambition had planned, there was in it nothing that was legally criminal.
For a week he kept close surveillance upon Loveman, Bradley, and the dark young man; and learned not a thing about Mary and not a thing about the plans of the others. Then one day he ran across the elder Morton, who had just returned to the city after a trip to Chicago.
“You won’t believe it when I tell you,” said the older man, “but Jack’s gone to work.”
“Where?”
“In my New York offices. Been working there a week—and they tell me he’s been as regular as a clock. Remarkable change!” His voice lowered. “But here’s a point that seems odd: though he’s kept his rooms at the Biltmore, the people there have hardly seen him.”
The finding of Mary now seemed simple enough. But Clifford realized that mere knowledge of her whereabouts would not satisfy him. Clifford considered rapidly how he might achieve a private meeting with her. Half an hour later he was sitting with Uncle George in Monsieur Le Bain’s Grand Alcazar, and was telling this wise old man of Broadway all that had happened.
“Certainly some little situation for Mary Regan!” Uncle George looked at Clifford with his shrewd old lashless eyes. “But, son, I hope your motor’s not missing fire over her—and her a married woman?”
“I’m concerned because I’m certain Loveman is planning to use her. I can protect her better, and I stand a better chance to land Loveman, if I know where she is.”
“H’m. And is that the three-mile limit of your interest?”