<SPAN name="chap12"></SPAN>
<h3> CHAPTER XII </h3>
<h3> MISSING </h3>
<p>Two days had passed without any word from Morgan, and Marsh himself
had made little progress on the case, for a large part of those two
days had been taken up in assisting Jane Atwood to pack her personal
things and remove them to her new home in the hotel.</p>
<p>They had been pleasant days for Marsh, because he had derived
considerable happiness from the little services he had been able to
render the girl, and also because it was the first time in all the
months he had been watching over her that he was actually in her
company.</p>
<p>During this time Marsh had made one discovery of a peculiar nature,
but its working out appeared to have no particular effect on the
developments of the case. The morning after he escorted Jane Atwood
to the hotel, she had returned to the apartment to begin her
packing. While assisting in this, Marsh had suggested that she
notify the man from whom her father had rented the apartment, so
that he could take steps to secure another tenant. He was amazed to
learn that she knew nothing whatever about the matter, not even the
name of the man from whom they rented. So during the morning, Marsh
called at the office of the agent of the building and explained the
situation. The agent was surprised, saying that he had always
supposed a Mr. Crocker, whose name appeared on the lease, occupied
the apartment himself. The man's name not appearing in the telephone
directory, the agent had suggested that he would write to the man's
former St. Louis address. Marsh thought this a good idea, and owing
to the odd situation which had developed, left his telephone number,
suggesting that the agent let him know what he heard in the matter.</p>
<p>The next afternoon, the real estate agent telephoned him that a
telegram had just arrived from the man in St. Louis, stating that he
had never rented any such apartment in Chicago, had never signed any
lease, and did not know anything about the matter. To Marsh, the
situation was obvious. In renting the apartment Atwood had used the
name of a well known St. Louis man so as to have good references and
close the deal quietly without in any way bringing his own name and
personality into the matter. There was nothing in this information
to help the case in any way, yet it created a strange situation.
Here was an apartment full of furniture that rightfully belonged to
the girl, and yet he could in no way convince her of that fact
without also disclosing the other circumstances connected with the
case. All that they could do was to walk out and close the door
behind them, leaving the problem to the real estate agent to solve.
This they did on Friday afternoon, and so far as Marsh was
concerned, the Atwood apartment was of no further interest, for it
was obvious, now that Atwood was supposed to be dead, no one
connected with him would be likely to ever again visit the
apartment. He decided, however, to remain in his own apartment for
the present. The lease he had signed had still nearly a year to run.
He was comfortable, and free to come and go as he pleased, without
anyone noticing his movements. Then there was no telling how long he
would have to remain in Chicago, for he felt that the solution of
this case still rested somewhere within the city limits. At the
present moment he was facing a blank wall, but any day or hour might
furnish a new clue that would set things moving again. In fact, he
was inclined to feel that when he again heard from Morgan, the
detective would probably have valuable information for him.</p>
<p>It was Saturday morning, and Marsh, on his way back from breakfast
at the little waffle shop, purchased a copy of the Tribune and went
back to his apartment to look over the day's news. No sooner had he
opened the paper than this headline met his eyes:</p>
<h4>
PROMINENT BROKER MISSING
</h4>
<p>Marsh dropped the paper on his knees and thought for a moment. Ever
since Tuesday morning, when the trouble had occurred, he had
carefully scanned the papers for reports of any missing people who
might in any way be connected with this occurrence. Here at last was
an announcement that looked promising. He began to read the article.</p>
<P CLASS="letter">
Richard Townsend Merton, the well known La Salle Street
broker, has been missing far ten days, it was learned
yesterday. Gilbert Hunt, the general manager of the Merton
business, notified the police that Mr. Merton had not
appeared at his office, his clubs, or his hotel for some
days. A telegraphed inquiry to his wife, who resides with
an invalid son in Arizona, brought the reply that Mr. Merton
had not been there. The manager is inclined to believe that
Mr. Merton has either wandered away during a lapse of memory,
or may have met with an accident.</p>
<p>The article then continued with the usual outline of what the police
were doing, and a description of the broker's life and habits. Marsh
learned from this that Merton had closed his country home in Hubbard
Woods when his wife moved to Arizona with their son. He had lived
for the past two years at a downtown hotel, and spent most of his
evenings at his clubs.</p>
<p>After reading the entire article carefully, Marsh cut out the
accompanying photographs of Merton and the absent wife and son. Here
was something worth investigating, he thought, for he remembered the
cuff button with the initial "M," which Morgan had discovered.</p>
<p>For upwards of an hour Marsh sat in deep deliberation, figuring how
he could get in close touch with the situation without in any way
disclosing his official connection or real interest in the matter.
At last he decided to follow a plan which he had used successfully
in connection with two previous cases. He looked up the address of
the Merton offices, and putting on his coat and hat, took the
Sheridan Road motor bus downtown.</p>
<p>Marsh located the Merton offices on the fifteenth floor of the La
Salle Trust Building, and paused a moment inside the door to look
the place over. He found himself in a large room which contained
several stenographers and clerks. To his left was a grill work with
a window marked, "Cashier," and beyond this, several men who were
evidently bookkeepers. In front of him was a railing, behind which
sat a girl at a telephone switchboard. At the other side of the
room, floors opened into what were evidently three private offices.
On the first door he saw the name, Mr. Merton; on the second, Mr.
Hunt. The third door was blank.</p>
<p>Approaching the girl, Marsh inquired if Mr. Hunt was in.</p>
<p>"Yes," she replied, looking him over. "Have you a card?"</p>
<p>Marsh handed her a card and she went into Mr. Hunt's office. In a
moment she returned and said, "Please step in."</p>
<p>Marsh entered Hunt's office and closed the door behind him. It was
the usual private office, with a large flat top desk in the center.
This was so arranged that Hunt's back was to the light, which fell
full upon any visitor's face. Some files, a bookcase, and a small
table littered with papers, stood against the wall. Hunt motioned to
a chair and said, "Sit down, please." Marsh's card lay before him on
the desk. He picked it up and read:</p>
<h4>
GORDON MARSH<br/>
Private Investigator<br/>
</h4>
<p>Then looking at Marsh as he laid the card down, he said, "what can I
do for you?"</p>
<p>"As you see by my card," replied Marsh, "my business consists of
conducting special private investigations. I read in the morning
paper that Mr. Merton is missing, and I came in to see if you would
care to use my services."</p>
<p>"I have placed the entire matter in the hands of the police,"
returned Hunt.</p>
<p>"You probably know, as well as I do, Mr. Hunt, that that is the next
thing to burying the matter. They will be very busy for a couple of
days and then forget it."</p>
<p>"That is about what I thought, Mr. Marsh," admitted Hunt.</p>
<p>"But isn't it important, for business reasons, that you ascertain
definitely, and as quickly as possible, just what has happened to
Mr. Merton?" Marsh asked.</p>
<p>"To a certain extent, yes. But Mr. Merton has left the business
entirely in my hands for some time, and things will continue
satisfactorily in his absence."</p>
<p>"Then I presume you wouldn't care to have me conduct a private
investigation on your behalf, Mr. Hunt?"</p>
<p>"Well, I'll tell you, Mr. Marsh," said Hunt. "Until you presented
your card to me this morning, the thought of doing anything beside
notifying the police had not occurred to me. Let me think for a
minute."</p>
<p>With that, Hunt swung his chair around so that his back was toward
Marsh, and gazed thoughtfully out of the window for a few minutes.</p>
<p>"In your work," he said at length, swinging around toward Marsh once
more, "you probably come into more or less close contact with the
police. I mean by that, that you would work with them more or less
on a case of this kind."</p>
<p>"Certainly," replied Marsh. "I follow up every likely clue,
including everything which may be unearthed by the police."</p>
<p>"After thinking it over, it may be that we can come to some
arrangement, Mr. Marsh," said Hunt. "What are your terms?"</p>
<p>"My charges are $25.00 a day, and expenses," said Marsh.</p>
<p>"Whew!" whistled Hunt, "that's pretty steep. I could hire all the
private detectives I wanted for ten dollars a day."</p>
<p>"But I'm not a regular detective," protested Marsh. "I'm an
investigator."</p>
<p>"You make a distinction, do you?" smiled Hunt.</p>
<p>"Absolutely," asserted Marsh. "I merely dig up the facts and turn
them over to you for any action you see fit. My investigative work
could hardly be classed with the ordinary work of the detective."</p>
<p>Hunt clasped his hands before him on the desk. After a moment's
thought, he said, "All right, Marsh, I'm going to engage you. See
what you can discover, and report to me whenever you think you are
making progress. Incidentally, keep your eye on the police and see
what they are doing. As long as you are working on this job for me,
it will be curious to see just how effective our police really are.
Now, I suppose you want to ask some questions."</p>
<p>"Yes," said Marsh, "one or two; although as a rule I prefer to start
with my mind as free as possible. Mr. Merton has been living at the
LaSalle Hotel, I understand?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"How long has he been living there?"</p>
<p>"Two years."</p>
<p>"I suppose I can find out something of his habits there."</p>
<p>"I think I get your drift, Marsh," said Hunt, with a smile. "I can
assure you from my personal knowledge, that Mr. Merton has led a
very quiet and most exemplary life. Practically all his evenings
have been passed at the University and Chicago Athletic Clubs, and I
believe that occasionally he dropped into the Hamilton Club, of
which he is a member."</p>
<p>"Why did his wife go to Arizona?" inquired Marsh.</p>
<p>"The boy has weak lungs and the doctors said his life could be saved
only by several years' residence in the Arizona climate. Mrs. Merton
worships the boy and insisted upon going with him. They have been
there two years."</p>
<p>"When do you expect them back?" asked Marsh.</p>
<p>"I understand the boy is not much better. It might be years before
they return, unless the boy should die."</p>
<p>Marsh thought a moment, then said, "You mentioned before that the
business could go on without Mr. Merton. I presume he has given you
power of attorney?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Hunt.</p>
<p>"In case of his death, Mr. Hunt, who would be his executors?"</p>
<p>"I cannot see that that has any bearing on the case."</p>
<p>"Perhaps not," said Marsh, "but I am following a line of thought."</p>
<p>"Well," returned Hunt, "if it's of any use to you, I may say that I
will be the sole executor."</p>
<p>"It was a very wise move on your part to employ me in this matter,
Mr. Hunt, in view of that fact."</p>
<p>"How so?" inquired Hunt.</p>
<p>"Because to the outsider it might appear that you had some personal
interest in Mr. Merton's disappearance. You know, sometimes the
police are stupidly suspicious."</p>
<p>Hunt sat up with a start. "You have given me food for thought,
Marsh," he said. "I hadn't looked at the matter in that light
before."</p>
<p>"Well," returned Marsh, "you can now see that my investigations and
reports will be of the utmost value to you. Furthermore, as you have
already suggested, I can keep my ear to the ground where the police
are concerned, and keep you advised of what is going on."</p>
<p>"Mr. Marsh," said Hunt, rising. "I am very glad you came in to see
me. You can count upon my keeping you on this job until everything
is settled."</p>
<p>"One more question," said Marsh, also rising. "I noticed a mention
of Mr. Merton's country house. Has anyone looked to see if Mr.
Merton could by any chance have gone there because of illness, or
for some other reason?"</p>
<p>"I know positively he is not there," Hunt replied. "I keep a
caretaker on the premises, and occasionally look over the place
myself to make sure that everything is all right. The caretaker
assures me that Mr. Merton has not been near the place since he
closed the house two years ago."</p>
<p>"One thing more, Mr. Hunt, before I go. People sometimes question my
right to investigate. Will you give me a line stating that I am
authorized to represent you in this matter?"</p>
<p>"Certainly." Hunt sat down at his desk and hastily penned a few
lines on a sheet of letter paper, which he then handed to Marsh.</p>
<p>Marsh carefully folded the paper, placed it in his pocket-book, and
bidding Hunt good day, went out.</p>
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