your case. We might succeed to-morrow--to-day. That would mean a large
profit for us. But we might not succeed to-day, or next month, or even
next year. That would leave us little or no profit; and, as it is our
custom to go on until we do succeed, no matter how long it may require,
you see, Mr. Gatewood, I should be taking all sorts of chances. It might
even cost us double your retainer before we found her--"

"Her? How did--_why_ do you say '_her_'?"

"Am I wrong?" asked Keen, smiling.

"No--you are right."

The Tracer of Lost Persons sank into abstraction again. Gatewood waited,
hoping that his case might be declined, yet ready to face any music
started at his own request.

"She is young," mused Keen aloud, "very beautiful and accomplished. _Is_
she wealthy?" He looked up mildly.

Gatewood said: "I don't know--the truth is I don't care--" And stopped.

"O-ho!" mused Keen slowly. "I--think--I understand. Am I wrong, Mr.
Gatewood, in surmising that this young lady whom you seek is, in your
eyes, very--I may say ideally gifted?"

"She is my ideal," replied the young man, coloring.

"_Ex_actly. And--her general allure?"