The Detroit Times

A REAL SHERLOCK.
By Rex Johnson.

They were going up in an elevator in a large office building. He saw her first; then she cast just a glance at him. He went up to the top story to ascertain at which floor she would alight; she proceeded to get off at the sixth. That was all they saw of each other that day.

Jennings went home that night wondering, pondering—does she work in one of the offices? He would see.

The janitor said he had seen a large stout lady who worked on the seventh. That was not the one.

He would see the cleaners. One woman told him that a tall lady worked on the eleventh, who wore "specks." She was real ugly. That certainly was not the right one. Another cleaner said she had seen a short fat lady, who wore a wig, and spoke broken English. The third stated she never saw her at all.

So Jennings tried a new source, reliable he presumed. The man at the cigar stand was the real know-it-all.

"Slender build, blue eyes, and dressed very neat?" answered the cigar stand man. "Why, I know just the very person you have been hunting. She's a stenographer in the G. & M. office."

He did not wait for any further tips. The trail was struck. All the Sherlock had to do would be to go up.

Arriving at the sixth floor Jennings peeped cautiously into the door of G. & M. She wasn't in there. That was strange. He went next door.

"Oh, yes," said the gentleman in there, "I know the young lady. She is employed by the advertising company on the fifth floor. Do you want her to write your ads?"

The trail is getting hotter. In the office of the advertising company they told him that they employed no young ladies, but the one for whom he was anxiously seeking was on the top floor in an architect's office.

"I am sure I know about whom you are speaking," said the architect, when he inquired. "She may be found at this time down in the manager's office."

Down to the office of the building the Sherlock speeded. She was there.

The detective (in love) was well acquainted with the manager of the building. He went right into the office.

"Why, Mr. Spaulding, how do you do? I came to inquire of a certain young lady. It may seem rather odd, but I saw her on the elevator, and I just couldn't keep from thinking about her. Couldn't you introduce me? I understand she is employed here."

Spaulding looked rather puzzled. He did not know her.

At that moment she passed out of an inner office.

"That is she," explained the Sherlock.

"Why, you fool," explained the manager in angry tones, "that's my wife!"

Jennings had not applied for a job in the secret service. He did locate the lady, however crude his methods may have been.