Next morning in the dressing room of the sleeping car, Heberdon got into conversation with a citizen of Baltimore. After sounding him out a little Heberdon said:
“My firm is sending me to Baltimore to establish a branch.”
“Ah,” said the good Baltimorean, immediately interested. “What line?”
“Shipping,” replied Heberdon. “A new line to South America.”
“If I can be of any service—” said the other. “Permit me, my card.”
Heberdon, who always carried a small collection of cards against an emergency, gave him one in return that was inscribed: “Mr. Hector Sotheron.”
“The first thing I’ve got to do,” went on Heberdon, “is to look about for a house for my family. Can you give me any information?”
The Baltimorean could. In ten minutes Heberdon had acquired all that he needed to know, about lo
