"No; Mr. Kerns camped there. When he leaves to-night he will send the key to the Burglar Alarm Company."
"Very well. Please hold the wire for a while."
For ten full minutes Gatewood sat gleefully cuddling the receiver against his ear. His faith in Mr. Keen was naturally boundless; he believed that whatever the Tracer attempted could not result in failure. He desired nothing in the world so ardently as to see Kerns safely married. His own happiness may have been the motive power which had set him in action in behalf of his friend--that and a certain indefinable desire to practice a species of heavenly revenge, of grateful retaliation upon the prime mover and _collaborateur_, if not the sole author, of his own wedded bliss. Kerns had made him happy.
"And I'm hanged if I don't pay him off and make him happy, too!" muttered Gatewood. "Does he think I'm going to sit still and see him go tearing and gyrating about town with no responsibility, no moral check to his evolutions, no wholesome home duties to limit his acrobatics, no wife to clip his wings? It's time he had somebody to report to; time he assumed moral burdens and spiritual responsibilities. A man is just as happy when he is certain where he is going to sleep. A man can find just as much enjoyment in life when he feels it his duty to account for his movements. I don't care whether Kerns is comparatively happy or not--there's nothing either sacred or holy in that kind of happiness, and I'm not going to endure the sort of life he likes any longer!"
Immersed in moral reflections, inspired by affectionate obligations to violently inflict happiness upon Kerns, the minutes passed very agreeably until the amused voice of the Tracer of Lost Persons sounded again in the receiver.
"Do you really think it best for Mr. Kerns to fall in love?"
"I do, certainly!" replied Gatewood with emphasis.
"Because," continued the Tracer of Lost Persons, "I see little chance for him to do otherwise if I take up this case. Fate itself, in the shape of a young lady, is already on the way here in a railroad train."
"Good! Good!" exclaimed Gatewood. "Don't let him escape, Mr. Keen! I beg of you to take up his case! I urge you most seriously to do so. Mr. Kerns is now exactly what I was a year ago--an utterly useless member of the community--a typical bachelor who lives at his clubs, shirking the duties of a decent citizen."