GRACE ON THE TRAIL
Larry saw, standing before him, framed in the doorway from which
streamed the glare from a big reading lamp, the man of mystery--the
fellow who had escaped from the tumble-down tenement--the man he and
Bailey had pulled ashore on the life-raft.
"Are you Mah Retto?" asked Larry again, rather at a loss for
something to say, when he saw the strange man confronting him.
The mysterious one looked at Larry for several seconds. He seemed
much excited, and in doubt as to what to do. Then, seeming to arrive
at a sudden decision, he quickly closed the door, and Larry heard
the key turned in the lock.
"Not much satisfaction in that," muttered the young reporter. "That
was him, though. I wonder what I had better do?"
Larry stood in the hallway, undecided. He wanted another opportunity
to see and speak to the man he believed was Mah Retto, but he
considered it would not be wise to knock again on the door. The
occupant of the room either would not answer or would order him
away.
"I'll have to come again," Larry said to himself. "I've learned one
thing, anyhow, and that is where he lives."
The young reporter went to the office of the _Leader_ early the next
morning. He found Mr. Emberg on hand, and told the city editor the
plans for the day; that of making a tour of the steamship piers. Mr.
Emberg thought this was a good idea, and complimented Larry on his
work thus far.
"I ran across my old friend, the East Indian, last night," Larry
said, as he was leaving. "I'm going to work him up for a story when
I get through with this Potter case."
"Don't do it until then," advised Mr. Emberg. "I want you to devote
all your attention to the missing millionaire. The East Indian story
will not amount to much or I'd put another man on it. You may get a
yarn for the Saturday supplement out of it, but even that's
doubtful."
Larry thought differently, but he did not say so. Nor did he mention
that he was going to take Grace Potter with him on his tour of the
docks. He had an idea that the city editor might object, or laugh at
him, and Larry did not care to have that happen. He felt he was
doing right, and he knew there could be no serious objection to the
daughter of the missing man aiding in a search for her parent.
Larry found Grace waiting for him. She was quietly dressed, and wore
a heavy veil, so that no one in the street would recognize her,
since her picture had been published in several papers, and there
might be comments from the crowd if the daughter of Mr. Potter was
seen out in company of a newspaper reporter.
"Anything new?" asked the young lady, for she had taken to greeting
Larry in that newspaper fashion.
"Not much. I didn't learn anything of consequence by my trip to the
East Side last night. I'm not done there, however. Now we'll try the
piers, and see what sort of a 'pull' you have with the captains of
the vessels."
"We may not find many captains," Grace said, "unless their ships are
about to sail. Still it is worth trying. Shall we start?"
"I'm ready any time you are," Larry answered. "What did your mother
say?"
"She objected a bit at first, but I soon convinced her it was for
the best."
Larry thought it would not have been hard for Grace to have
convinced him that almost anything was for the best. She looked
quite trim in her dark dress, with her glossy hair held snugly in
place by her veil.
As they went down the steps of the mansion Larry saw a man, who was
standing on the other side of the street, move rapidly away, as if
he had been watching the house. The young reporter uttered an
exclamation before he was aware of it, and Grace quickly asked:
"What's the matter?"
"I--I saw some one," Larry replied.
"Any one would think it was a ghost from the way you act," the girl
went on, with a little laugh. She was in much better spirits than
any time since her father had disappeared, for the chance of helping
to search for him, and the change, from sitting idly in the house
waiting for news, was a welcome relief.
"No, it wasn't a ghost. It was a man I'd like to have a chance to
talk to," Larry went on.
"Would he give you--er--a 'story'? Is that what you call it?"
"That's right. Yes, I believe he could give me a story," and Larry
looked in the direction the man had gone. He was no longer to be
seen. "A very good story," he added, for the man was the same one he
had surprised in the tenement the night before--the man of the
life-raft.
However, he could not leave Grace to go in search of the strange
individual, and it was more important, as Mr. Emberg had said, to
stick to the Potter case. The other could wait.
"All the same I'd like to know what he was doing in this
neighborhood," thought Larry. He puzzled over the matter for several
seconds as he and Grace went along.
On the way downtown the two discussed their plans. There were not
many Italian steamship lines to visit, but it might take some time
to see the captains of all the boats at present in port. Some of
the commanders would be at their hotels pending the loading of their
vessels.
"Have you made up your mind what you want to ask them?" inquired
Larry, as they were nearing the station where they intended to get
off.
"What I want principally to know is if a person answering my
father's description came over with them lately. I want to find out,
in case he did, how he acted, and if he gave any hint of being in
trouble."
"That may be a good clue to follow," Larry sad. "Now we'll make our
first attempt."
It ended in failure, for though they found the captain of the
Italian steamer they boarded in the cabin of his vessel, he could
not aid them. He was very polite about it, and seemed quite sorry
that he could be of no service.
It was the same in a number of other cases. Some of the captains
remembered Grace, for she had crossed with them once or twice, but
none of them recalled a man answering Mr. Potter's description
making the voyage with them recently.
The last place they visited was the dock of the line to which the
wrecked _Olivia_ belonged. This line Grace had never traveled on,
but she had a letter of introduction to the manager from the captain
of the _Messina_, on which she had made her last trip. The
commanders of two steamers of this company were in port. One of them
was at the dock, for his vessel was about to sail.
To him Grace made her inquiries, but fruitlessly. She turned away,
rather disappointed. There was but one more chance left. The other
captain was at his hotel, not far away, for seamen like to remain
near the water front.
"We'll go there," said Larry, "and then I must get back to the
office, and write my story for to-day's paper."
"I wish you had some better news," spoke Grace. "But I am afraid
Captain Padduci, whom we are now going to see, will prove as
disappointing as the rest."
"We'll hope for the best," remarked Larry. "I wish----"
But what he wished he never told, for at that instant his attention
was attracted by a voice. It was that of a man who stood at the
small window of the steamship office. The window was one which he
and Grace had just stepped away from, after inquiring as to where
Captain Padduci's hotel was.
If the voice attracted Larry the sight of the man himself did more
to rivet his attention. For the first glance showed him the inquirer
was none other than the mysterious individual, Mah Retto.
"I would like to inquire where I can find Captain Tantrella of the
steamer _Olivia_," the man asked of the clerk.
"The _Olivia_ is lost," replied the steamship clerk.
"I know it, but I would like to see the captain. He was saved, I
believe."
"Yes, he was. He commands a freight ship now. She's due in port in
a few days. The _Turtle_ is her name. You can come around when she
gets in."
The mysterious man turned away as though disappointed. As he did so
he caught sight of Larry, and instantly he hurried out of the
office.
Larry was greatly excited. He was convinced, more than ever, that
there was something in this man's actions that made him an object of
suspicion. He felt that he must follow the fellow, but he could not
leave Grace. He looked around for her, but she had gone to the
ladies' dressing room to adjust her veil and hat, which had been
blown about by the high wind. She came back presently, to find Larry
much agitated.
"What is the matter?" she asked.
"Nothing much," replied Larry. "I just saw my queer stranger again
and----"
"You'd like to follow him, and you don't want to leave me," put in
Grace with quick wit. "Now run right along. I can go to that hotel
all by myself and see Captain Padduci. I'm not a bit afraid. I once
traveled from London to Paris alone. You hurry after him, and I'll
see the captain. I'll telephone you the result of my interview. You
can come up and see me this evening, and we'll talk over some more
plans."
"That will be good," Larry said, "but are you sure you won't mind me
leaving you?"
"I can get along all right," replied Grace. "Of course I'd like to
have you come along, for I believe you understand this matter better
than I do, but I want you to find that other man and get your
story."
Larry was inclined both ways, but he knew it would be better to
hurry after Mah Retto, as Grace could make all the necessary
inquiries of Captain Padduci.
"Until to-night, then," the young reporter said, as he hurried out
of the steamship office, and Grace turned to go to the captain's
hotel.
Reaching the street Larry saw, some distance ahead of him, the form
of the man whose actions so puzzled him, and who had led him such a
baffling chase.
"Here is where I get you," thought Larry, as he hurried on.