“Hold on!” cried the other, jumping up; “I don’t want much from you, and I’ll tell you anything you wish to know.”
“I have no doubt of it,” replied Herbert; “but unfortunately you are not the man I want.”
“Oh, yes, I am,” insisted the other eagerly, “I’m the man that called on David Harkins at Cleverly.”
Herbert shook his head and shrugged his shoulders; then as if it were an afterthought, he turned to the seedy-looking person and said:
“Do you insist that you are the identical man who called on David Harkins?”
“I insist,” repeated the man, trying to draw himself up in a dignified way.
“Now, I am sure that I have no business with you,” said Herbert, “because it so happens that the man who called on David Harkins had bright red hair--it was bushy, too, while you are almost bald-headed and your hair is black.”
The fellow snickered a little at this, and said:
“I lost me hair durin’ a very bad attack o’ fever.”
Herbert could not forbear smiling himself.
“I suppose the color turned, too, at the same time.”
“Yes,” answered the man, “it did indeed. You needn’t laugh. Scientific men will tell you that a man’s hair often changes color in a single night.”
“Well, good-by,” said Herbert, “I’ll leave you to settle that with the scientists.”
Three weeks passed by after this amusing episode and Herbert received no further replies from the personal that he had inserted in the Herald. He was reading the paper one afternoon, and while running his trained eye down the many columns of small advertisements, happened to see his own name in print. He looked closer, and this is what he read:
“If Herbert Harkins, son of the late David Harkins, of Cleverly, New Jersey, will make his whereabouts known to the undersigned, he may learn of something to his advantage. Write without delay to Captain Thomas Janson, Anchor Inn, Jersey City, N. J.”
Feverish with anxiety, Herbert immediately sent a letter in response to this advertisement. Within forty-eight hours after that he received an answer, written in a large, sprawling hand, inviting him to call on Captain Janson at his domicile in Jersey City. He responded without delay. He found Anchor Inn to be an obscure hotel in a deserted part of the town. It was a popular resort for seafaring men. Upon inquiry for Captain Janson, he was informed that the Captain had removed that very morning to a new two-story house which he had erected on the outskirts of the city. He had left a message for Herbert, however, giving him explicit directions where he could find his new domicile.