For hours he stood beside the soda-water fountains examining every drinker as he drank.

For three days he sat on the steps of Masterman Throgton's home, disguised as a plumber waiting for a wrench.
But still no trace of Peter Kelly.

Young Kelly, it appeared, had lived with his uncle until a little less than three years ago.

Then suddenly he had disappeared.

He had vanished, as a brilliant writer for the New York Press framed it, as if the earth had swallowed him up.
Transome Kent, however, was not a man to be baffled by initial defeat.
A week later, the Investigator called in at the office of Inspector Edwards.
"Inspector," he said, "I must have some more clues.