Has anything turned up to tell you where he is
and what he is doing?"
"Not a thing," replied the girl, with a tinge of sadness in her tone.
"From the moment I paid him that money, I've never laid eyes on him.
For some days after he was said to have left for Chicago, I haunted
his office, hoping that with every mail there might be a letter
either to me or his stenographer explaining the matter and setting
it right. I tried to get his Chicago address, but his stenographer
said she didn't know it, and I think it likely enough she was telling
the truth. I've looked through the records here to see if he had
transferred the mortgage, but it still stands in his name, as far as
the records go. I have clung to the hope that possibly he had written
to me and that the letter had gone astray. But I guess I'm just
fooling myself. I'm going to put the whole thing in the hands of a
lawyer and have Cassey brought to justice if I can. But I'm afraid
it'll be a case of locking the stable door after the horse is stolen."
"Don't get downhearted," urged Bob. "I have an idea that you'll get
your money or the mortgage. Slicker rascals than he have been caught,
no matter how carefully they covered their tracks. There's usually
one little thing they've forgotten that leads to their getting nabbed
at last."
"Let's hope so," replied Miss Berwick, but none too confidently.
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