After landing, he went directly to a hotel, engaged a room, and shut himself up in it until afternoon. Then he went to the dock and wandered nervously back and forth, looking out over the water and occasionally down into it. The dock men watched him curiously, and one of them loosened a life-preserver that hung near, but he went back to the hotel without giving them an opportunity to use it. He kept close to his room at the hotel, and was so unobtrusive that the clerks and the other guests hardly realized he was there, and, being registered under an assumed name, not one of them recognized him as the Jonas Kalin who was described in the Sunday papers as being missing. For, the secret search Friday night and Saturday failing to reveal any trace of him, his sons had decided to try the effect of publicity. It was not until he had surrendered his room Sunday night that his identity was established. On the table was found a letter, sealed, addressed to Sidney Kalin. “Kalin!” cried the clerk, when the letter was brought to him. “Good Lord! that’s the man who disappeared. And there’s a reward for information. I remember, too, he had all the Sunday papers sent to his room, and then kept out of the way until the moment he left.” The clerk looked at the letter, uncertain as to what he ought to do. Finally, he decided to get the Chicago police department on the long-distance telephone. “Jonas Kalin has been here for two days under an assumed name,” he reported, “but his identity was discovered only after he had taken the night boat back to Chicago. He left a letter. It is sealed and addressed to Sidney Kalin.” “We’ll notify Kalin and meet the boat,” was the prompt reply. “Hold the letter until you hear from Kalin.” A little later Kalin called up the hotel and instructed that the letter be mailed to him at once. As Jonas was already on his way back, nothing would be gained by having its contents transmitted by telephone. He was beyond reach until the boat arrived. It was an anxious little crowd that waited at the wharf for the arrival of the boat. There were Albert and Sidney Kalin, two detectives and some newspaper men. The news of Jonas Kalin’s sojourn across the lake was already in the morning papers, having come by telegraph, and there was natural curiosity to learn the reason for this strange procedure. In addition, there was an undefined and unexpressed feeling that there might be a tragedy back of it. In any event, there was a mystery.