There he would have to fill in his name, etc.,
in the hotel register according to the strict requirements of the French
law.
Advertise in the papers for one John Riviere from Paris, age
thirty-seven, staying at a hotel in the provinces on the 15th or 16th.
Offer a reward for information. The average Frenchman is very keen on
money; without a doubt he would answer the advertisement if he knew
anything of John Riviere. Advertise in _Le Petit Journal_, _Le Petit
Parisien_ and a few other dailies which cover France from end to end, as
no English or American journals do in their respective countries.
That was the right solution!
Larssen did not pay the cheque for L20,000 into his bank. He was after
big game, and a mere L20,000 was a jack-rabbit. It would be safer, he
felt, to let it lie amongst his secret papers.
When Sylvester, his private secretary, arrived by the afternoon train
from London, Lars Larssen placed him in touch with only so much of the
situation as he considered desirable. This was little. Sylvester was to
stay in Paris while the shipowner went on to Monte Carlo. If the various
advertisements brought a reply, Sylvester was to hunt out John Riviere
in whatever part of France he might be, and then communicate with Lars
Larssen for further orders.
The secretary was a quiet, self-contained, silent man of thirty or
thirty-one. A heavy dark moustache curtained expression from his lips.
Not only could he carry out orders to the letter, but he was to be
trusted to keep his head in any unforeseen emergency and act on his own
responsibility in a sound, common-sense way.
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