I suppose--" "My profession is to overcome the impossible, Mr.Gatewood.Where is Mr.
Kerns ?" "Here, in this club, defying me and drinking cocktails.

He won't get married, and I want you to make him do it." "Where is he spending the evening ?" asked the Tracer, laughing again.
"Why, he's been stopping at the Danforth Lees' in Eighty-third Street until the workmen at the club here finish putting new paper on his walls.

The Lees are out of town.

He left his suit case at their house and he's going up to get it and catch the 12.10 train for Boston." "He goes from the Lenox Club to the residence of Mr.W.Danforth Lee, East Eighty-third Street, to get a suit case," repeated the Tracer.

"Is that correct ?" "Yes." "What is in the suit case ?" "Samples of that new marble he's quarrying in Georgia." "Is it an old suit case?
Has it Mr.Kerns's initials on it ?" "Hold the wire; I'll find out." And Gatewood left the telephone and walked into the great lounging room, where Kerns sat twirling his stick and smiling to himself.
"All over, dear friend ?" inquired Kerns, starting to rise.