"There's no use being silly about this; I'm going to telephone to a detective agency and tell them to send out a good man, right away--to-night----" "As you please," Hood assented, "but if you do, you'll regret it to your last hour. I know the whole breed, and you may count on their making a mess of it. And consider for a moment that what you propose means putting a hired bloodhound on the trail of a girl who probably never harmed a kitten in her life. It would be rotten caddishness to send a policeman after her. It isn't done, Deering; it isn't done! Of course, there's not much chance that the sleuths would ever come within a hundred miles of her, but what if they found her! You are a gentleman, Deering, and that's not the game for you to play." "Then tell me a better one! In ten days at the farthest father will be back and what am I going to say to him--how am I going to explain breaking into his safety box and stealing those bonds?" "You can't explain it, of course, and it's rather up to you, son, to put 'em back. Every hour you spend talking about it is wasted time. That girl's had your suitcase two days, and it's your duty to find her. Something must have happened or she'd have turned it back to the railroad company. Perhaps she's been arrested as a thief and thrown into jail! Again, her few effects point to a degree of prosperity--she's not a girl who would steal for profit; I'll swear to that. We must find that girl! We'll toss a slipper and start off the way the toe points." Indifferent to Deering's snort of disgust, Hood was already whirling the slipper in the air. "Slightly northeast! There you are, Deering--the clear pointing of Fate! The girl wasn't going far or she wouldn't have been in the local ticket line, and even a lady in haste packs more stuff for a long journey. We'll run up to the Barton Arms--an excellent inn, and establish headquarters. The girl who danced off with your two hundred thousand is probably around there somewhere, bringing up her tennis for the first tournaments of the season. Let's be moving; a breath of air will do you good." "That's all you can do about it, is it?" demanded Deering. "Let me tell my whole story--put myself in your power, and now the best you can do is to flip a slipper to see which way to start!" "Just as good a way as any," remarked Hood amiably. He pressed the button, ordered his car, and then led the way back to Deering's room. "Throw some things into a bag. You'll soon forget your sordid money affairs and begin to live, and you'd better be prepared for anything that turns up. I'll fold the coats; some old fishing-togs for rough work and jails, and even your dress suit may come in handy." He fell to work, folding the suits neatly, while Deering moved about like a man in a trance, assembling linen and toilet articles.