With his tastes the income of twenty-five thousand dollars per annum
which his father allowed him from the profits of "Dr. Hoff's
Catarrh-Killer," proved sadly insufficient to his needs. He
mentioned this fact to his father, so Average Jones' information
ran, early in April, and suggested an increase, only to be refused
with some acerbity.

"Oh, very well," said he, "I'll go and make it myself."

The amazement inspired in Doctor Hoff's mind by this pronouncement
was augmented in the next few days by the fact that Roderick was
very busy about town in his motor-car, and was changed to vivid
alarm immediately thereafter by the young man's disappearance. To
all intents and appearances, Roderick Hoff had dropped off the earth
on or about April twelfth. By April fifteenth New York, Pittsburg,
Chicago, Washington and other clearing-houses for the distribution
of the unspent increment were apprised of the elder Hoff's five
thousand-dollar anxiety through the medium of the daily press. This
advertisement it was, upon the practical merits of which Average
Jones and his confidential clerk had differed.

"If there were any chance of sport in it," mused Average Jones, "I'd
go in. But to follow the trail of a spurious young sport from
bar-room to brothel and from brothel to gambling hell--" He shook
his head. "Not good enough," he repeated.

Simpson's face appeared at the door. His blond forehead was
wrinkled with excitement.