“Good!” said Mr. Hardy approvingly. “You didn’t miss any chances. I’m not saying these clues will lead to the capture of the fellow, but they will go a long way toward finding him.”
“What should we do with them?”
Mr. Hardy looked up at his sons and smiled.
“Well, you’ve shared your clues with me, so I suppose I may as well share some of my experience with you. What do you say if I go to the city and try to trace up some of these labels? This hat, for instance—” and he picked it up from the table, examining the band intently. “There is a label here. Of course, the hat may have been sold a long time ago, and it isn’t likely that the man who sold it would remember who bought it. But there is always the chance that the store may not be far from where the fellow lives. You get my idea? And the coat, too. If we can find any trace of who bought the wig we may be able to connect up the other things as well.”
“Gosh, I never thought of that!” admitted Frank.
“It’s a slim chance, but, as I said before, we can’t afford to overlook any chances. I’ll take them to the city and see what I can do. It may mean everything and it may mean nothing. Don’t be disappointed if I come back empty-handed. And don’t be surprised if I come back with some valuable information.”
Mr. Hardy tossed the wig, the coat and the hat into a club bag that was standing open near his desk. The great detective was accustomed to being called away suddenly on strange errands, and he was always prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.
“Not much use starting now,” he said, glancing at his watch. “But I’ll go to the city the first thing in the morning. In the meantime, don’t rest on