"I think less than nothing of it," said Aubrey. "As your friend Don Marquis observed the other evening, an idea isn't always to be blamed for the people who believe in it. Mr. Conrad has been reading some quack ads, that's all. Because there are fake ads, that doesn't condemn the principle of Publicity. But look here, what I really came round to see you for is to show you this. It was in the Times this morning." He pulled out of his pocket a clipping of the LOST insertion to which Roger's attention had already been drawn. "Yes, I've just seen it," said Roger. "I missed the book from my shelves, and I believe someone must have stolen it." "Well, now, I want to tell you something," said Aubrey. "To-night I had dinner at the Octagon with Mr. Chapman." "Is that so?" said Roger. "You know his daughter's here now." "So he told me. It's rather interesting how it all works out. You see, after you told me the other day that Miss Chapman was coming to work for you, that gave me an idea. I knew her father would be specially interested in Brooklyn, on that account, and it suggested to me an idea for a window-display campaign here in Brooklyn for the Daintybits Products. You know we handle all his sales promotion campaigns. Of course I didn't let on that I knew about his daughter coming over here, but he told me about it himself in the course of our talk. Well, here's what I'm getting at. We had dinner in the Czecho-Slovak Grill, up on the fourteenth floor, and going up in the elevator I saw a man in a chef's uniform carrying a book. I looked over his shoulder to see what it was. I thought of course it would be a cook-book. It was a copy of Oliver Cromwell." "So he found it again, eh? I must go and have a talk with that chap. If he's a Carlyle fan I'd like to know him."