I was in the office, waiting for Mr.Somers to give me the last mail deposits.
"Get out and follow them," whispered Clayton.

"Come to my rooms at eight to-night.

Your hundred dollars await you." The agile lad nodded and stole out, springing down the stairs to await the slowly-descending elevator.
"Now," growled Clayton, as he viciously snapped the lock of his portmanteau.

"I will hide my every movement from you, my marble-faced old sleuth.

You are the heir of Ferris' infamy." And yet, as Clayton descended in the elevator, he realized that he had no claim whatever upon Robert Wade's friendship.