e is not," laughed Chilvers. "He's probably rolling around
in the English Channel right this minute."

"Gone abroad?"

"That's what."

"And Mrs. Harding?" I inquired.

"Gone with him, of course. Also Miss Harding."

"And Carter," added Marshall. "They all went on the same boat."

"At the same time," laughed Chilvers. "You see that lots of things have
happened since you went away. What are you looking so white and glum
about, Smith? Brace up, man; it may not be true. Come up to the club
house. We've got a new brand of Scotch, and it's great."

I don't know whether my laugh sounded natural or not, but I cheerfully
could have murdered both of them.

In those brief minutes I learned practically all I now know concerning
the departure and the whereabouts of the Hardings and Carter. There was
a lot of mail awaiting me, and I opened letter after letter hoping
against hope that there might be one from Miss Harding. There was none.

I discreetly questioned Miss Ross, Miss Dangerfield and others whom I
met, and all that I learned was this: A few days after my departure the
Hardings suddenly decided to go to England, or France or Germany or
somewhere. Carter was with them much of the time, but none of them
talked of their plans, and all the hints dropped to me by the married
and unmarried ladies of Woodvale were unproductive of information. They
had been here; they were abroad--and that was all there was to it.

It was yet early in the day and I took the first train for the city and
went straight to Mr. Harding's office. I am known to his representatives
there. They told me that all they knew was that Mr. Harding had gone
abroad to remain for a time.

"I assure you, Mr. Smith," said his private secretary, "that I do not
know where he is. He said that his family was going with him, and that
nothing possibly could happen here which would warrant bothering him. I
am sure he would be glad to see you, and I can only advise you to call
on his London bankers, who may have his address."

"Do you think the family are in England?" I asked, willing to accept the
faintest clue.

"I have no more idea than have you," he replied and I am convinced he
was telling the truth.

The "Oceanic" was the first boat to sail, and here I am. I doubt if a
sane man ever went on so absurd and hopeless a quest. I have had nothing
to do for several days but think over this situation, and the mystery of
the sudden departure resolves itself into t