He considered Loveland still his own--though Tony had passed on to better "scoops" since the night when he had changed his first sketchy impressions of the "Difficult Young Man to Approach" into a "story" far more entertaining. He was greatly amused at the latest development of "l'affaire Loveland," and thought that even a preoccupied public would be amused, too, especially as Alexander's own paragraph was quaintly quotable.
"Lost at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, the Marquis of Loveland. Found, Ditto, at Alexander the Great's in Twelfth Street. If you want to be served by a Lord, dine at Alexander's for 25C, Marquis included. You eat your dinner; Waiter Loveland does the rest."
Tony was very busy just then, having an important errand out of town by the first train in the morning, but he secretly commissioned an understudy to be at Alexander's when the red restaurant should open its doors; to order breakfast, and, while seeming to eat, to sketch the new English waiter. The understudy was not to question Loveland himself, but, if possible, Alexander, and was not to let the waiter see that he was under fire of attention. Notes of Loveland's appearance, as well as a drawing, must be made for Mr. Kidd's benefit, because the sharp young journalist was not going to let himself be "spoofed." It was quite on the cards that some other enterprising person might have taken a fancy to call himself a Marquis, in order to attract customers to Alexander's; and if so, Tony's little story would have to differ slightly from the original design.
When he came back from the country, late in the afternoon, however, Mr. Kidd at once recognised the cleverly executed sketch. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that the young man who had slammed the door in his face at the Waldorf-Astoria was now "pie slinger" in a cheap downtown restaurant.
Tony questioned his understudy as to what he had found out, and learned that Alexander himself had been privately interviewed. The great man had discouraged the artist-reporter from talking with the "Marquis," who, it seemed, was ignorant that he had begun to figure again in the newspapers. The fellow had been starving, said Alexander, and permitted the use of his name to a limited extent, but "might kick" if he heard of the advertisements. Alexander wished him to "kind of get used to things" before people noticed him much, for he was a queer fish, close-mouthed, inclined to hold onto the ragged edges of dignity in spite of his fall. The idea was to let it leak out very gradually that "Lord Loveland" was being "worked to draw a crowd"; and thus admonished, Tony Kidd's understudy had let the new waiter alone.