GRACE IS SUSPICIOUS
Retto headed for Central Park, and as Larry saw him pass the
entrance he realized that it was going to be as hard to follow the
man as though he had disappeared in the midst of a crowd, especially
since the park was not well lighted.
"But I've got to follow him," thought Larry. "It's my best chance. I
must find out where he has moved to. I wonder what Grace wanted? And
I wonder what Sullivan's game was? My, but the questions are coming
too thick for me. I'll have to get an assistant."
By this time he had entered the park. Ahead of him he could hear the
running feet of the man he was pursuing. The big recreation ground
was almost deserted.
"I don't believe he dare run very fast," reasoned Larry, as he
slackened his pace. "If he does a policeman will be sure to stop him
and ask questions, and I guess Retto will not relish that. I have a
better chance than I thought at first. After all, I don't see why he
is so afraid of me. All I want to do is to ask him where he gets the
letters from Mr. Potter. He must know where the millionaire is
hiding, and it looks as if Mr. Potter had been in Retto's room at
the Jackson tenement, or else how would the envelope get there?
That's it! I'll bet the missing millionaire has been hiding with
this East Indian chap! I never thought of that until now!"
Having walked for fully a quarter of a mile Retto came to a sudden
stop, and so did Larry, hiding in the shadow of a tree. Retto
listened intently, and, of course, heard no pursuing footsteps. This
apparently satisfied him, for he proceeded more slowly.
"He thinks I've given up the chase," thought Larry. "I'll let him.
Maybe he'll go home all the quicker, and, after I learn where he is
stopping, I can go back and see what Grace wanted."
Larry's surmise proved correct, and his wish soon came to pass. The
man, evidently believing that he was safe, emerged from the park to
the street, for the whole pursuit had gone on not far from the
thoroughfare, and just within the boundary of the city's breathing
spot. Larry, keeping in the shadows, watched him.
He saw Retto give one more cautious look around and then, crossing
the highway, enter a hotel nearby. It was a fashionable one, and
Larry wondered how the man, who had, hitherto, only lived in
tenements, could afford to engage rooms in such a place as this.
"Maybe he's only doing it to throw me off the track," the reporter
reasoned. "I'll just wait a while and see if he comes out."
He waited nearly an hour, hiding in the shadows of the park and
keeping close watch on the entrance to the hotel. He did not see
Retto emerge, and then he decided on a new plan.
"I'll inquire if he is stopping there," he said to himself. "If he
is I'll wait until to-morrow before acting. I'll let him think
everything's all right. It's the best way."
Sauntering into the hotel lobby he found no one but the night clerk
on duty, though there were a few sleepy bell-boys sprawled on a
bench. As soon as the clerk saw Larry approaching the desk he swung
the registry book around, and, dipping a pen in the ink, extended it
to the reporter.
"I didn't come to stay," said Larry, with a smile. "I want to
inquire if there is a Mr. Mah Retto stopping here?"
"There is," replied the clerk. "Would you like to see him? He just
came in a little while ago."
"No; not to-night," Larry replied, his heart beating high with hope.
He had run down his man. "I wasn't sure of his address, and I
thought I'd inquire. I'll call and see him to-morrow."
The clerk, having lost all interest as soon as he found Larry was
not to be a guest of the hotel, did not reply. The bell-boys, seeing
their visions of a tip disappearing, resumed their dozes, and Larry
walked out. He was impressed by the clerk's manner. Clearly Retto
was a man of means and not as poor as Larry had supposed.
"So far so good," he murmured. "Now to go back and see what Grace
wanted--that is if it isn't too late."
It was nearly eleven o'clock, but Larry had an idea that Grace would
still be up. It was rather an unusual hour to make a call, still all
the circumstances in this case were unusual, and Larry did not think
Grace would mind.
He saw a light in the Potter house as he approached it. Thinking
perhaps Sullivan might be in the vicinity Larry walked up and down
on the other side of the street, peering in the shadow of the tree
where he had had his encounter with the politician, but Sullivan had
evidently gone away.
"Why didn't you come when I called you?" asked Grace, as she
admitted Larry to the library.
"I wanted to," the young reporter replied, "but I had to take after
a person who I believe knows where your father is, and I couldn't
stop without losing sight of him. I have some news for you."
"And I have some for you," exclaimed Grace, "Let me tell mine
first."
"All right," agreed Larry, with a smile. "Go ahead."
"Well, I was sitting in the window to-night, looking out on the
street, and feeling particularly sad and lonely on account of
father, when I saw a man sneaking along on the other side. I saw him
hide behind a tree, and I resolved to keep watch. There have been
some burglaries in this neighborhood recently, and I wasn't sure
whether he was a thief or a detective sent here to watch for
suspicious characters. Well, as I sat there watching I saw you come
along and talk to the man behind the tree."
"How long had he been there when I came along?"
"Oh, for some time, but don't interrupt, please. You can ask
questions afterward. When I saw you talking to the man I knew it
must be all right, and I was beginning to think he was a detective.
"Then I noticed another man sneaking along. He, too, hid behind a
tree, next to the first man. I thought this was queer until I
remembered you told me that detectives usually hunt in couples, and
I thought he was another officer from headquarters. I thought so
until mother, who, it seems had been looking out of her window in
the front room upstairs, called to me.
"She asked me if I had seen the two men come along, and, when I said
I had, she wanted to know if I didn't think there was something
queer about the second man. I said I didn't notice particularly, but
just then the man stepped out into the light, and I had a good look
at him."
"Was there anything suspicious about him?"
"There certainly was!" exclaimed Grace, earnestly. "As soon as I saw
him I thought sure it was my father. He had his back toward me, and
he looked exactly like papa. Mother saw it, too, and she cried out.
Just then the man turned and I saw he was smooth-shaven, and his
face didn't look a bit like my father's.
"Then I saw you and that other man--Mr. Sullivan, I then knew him to
be--step into the light. I saw he was going to hit you, and I raised
the window and called. I wanted to ask you to see who the second man
was--the one who looked so much like my father. I called, but you
didn't seem to hear."
"I heard you," replied Larry, "but I couldn't stop. I wanted to take
after the man--the same man you were suspicious of. I traced him
through the park."
"Did you find him? Who is he? Where is he? Is he--is he? Oh, Larry,
don't keep me in suspense----"
"I'm sorry to have to tell you he isn't your father," Larry replied,
gently, as he saw the girl's distress. "But I think he knows where
your father is. He goes by the name of Mah Retto, and I helped save
him from the wreck of a vessel on the Jersey coast. See, I found
this in his room, a little while before he disappeared," and he held
out to Grace the torn envelope with her name on it.
"My father's writing!" she exclaimed.
Larry heard some one descending the stairs and coming toward the
library.