Brant thanked her and ran up to his room, where Mrs. Seeley and Antrim were debating what should be done. Mrs. Seeley appealed to the draughtsman. “What do you think about it, Mr. Brant? I was just asking Mr. Antrim to notify the police on his way downtown, but he thinks we ought first to know what has been taken. Will you look through your things and see if anything is gone?” Now, in view of the inevitable conclusion, an investigation by the police was not to be thought of. So Brant made his examination perfunctory, missing nothing but the revolver and the bottle of brandy--and not missing the suit of clothes. “There is nothing gone--nothing of any consequence,” he said. “If I were you, I shouldn’t call in the police. If we had lost anything valuable, it would be different; but as it is, we should gain nothing but a lot of newspaper notoriety, and that would hurt the house. Don’t you think so?” Mrs. Seeley demurred at first. She did not quite like the idea of having her house broken into, and then to be denied the poor consolation of stirring up the lazy, good-for-nothing police. But when Antrim added his word, she yielded. On the way downtown Antrim asked Brant a single question and no more: “Tell me one thing, George. Did you give Mrs. Seeley your real reason for wanting to keep the thing quiet?” “No,” said Brant. And as he volunteered no further information, the chief clerk dropped the subject and took up another. “I suppose you will keep on hunting for Will Langford?” “I shall; if he hasn’t already turned up at home. I asked Dorothy to send me a line this morning, and if he is still missing I shall keep on till I find him.” “All right; I’m with you. Let me know what she says, and I’ll do what I can to help. I shall be too busy to do much through the day, but after supper I’ll be yours to command again.” Dorothy’s note came just before noon. She had been delayed by the difficulty of finding a trustworthy messenger, she wrote. Her brother had not returned, and the situation at home was most trying. Her mother was sick with anxiety, and her father would hear to nothing less harsh than the turning of the matter over to the police. Mrs. Hobart had not been told; and, altogether, the household was in a most grievous state. Wouldn’t Mr. Brant send her a line of encouragement? Brant would, and did; sat down at once to indite it, ringing first for a messenger, so that no time should be lost.