e reply came,
"Post Office, Okehampton, Devon."

Brodrick repeated it with satisfaction as he wrote it down: "Post
Office, Okehampton, Devon."

Gertrude was silent.

"He's got friends somewhere in Devonshire," Brodrick said.

"At the Post Office?" she murmured.

"Of course--if they're motoring."

Gertrude was again silent (she achieved her effects mainly by silences).

"We'd better send the wire there," said Brodrick.

They sent it there first thing in the morning.

Before noon a message came from Mrs. Tanqueray: "Address, 'The Manor,
Wilbury, Wilts.' Have sent your message there."

Admirable Mrs. Tanqueray!

"We've sent _our_ wire to the wrong address," said Brodrick.

"It's the right one, I fancy, if Miss Ranger has it."

"Mrs. Tanqueray's got the wrong one, then?"

They looked at each other. Gertrude's face was smooth and still, but her
eyes searched him, asking what his thoughts were.

They sent a wire to Wilbury.

Three days passed. No answer to their wires and no manuscript.

"He's left Okehampton, I suppose," said Brodrick.

"Or has he left Wilbury?"

"We'll send another wire there, to make sure."

She wrote out the form obediently. Then she spoke again.

"Of course he's at Okehampton." Her voice had an accent of joyous
certainty.

"Why 'of course'?"

"Because he went to Wilbury first. Mrs. Tanqueray said she sent our
message there--the one we sent three days ago. So he's left Wilbury and
he's staying in Okehampton."

"It looks like it."

"And yet--you'd have thought he'd have let his wife know if he was
staying."

"He probably isn't."

"He must be. The manuscript went there."

"Let's hope so, then we may get it to-morrow."

It was as if he desired to impress upon her that the manuscript was the
important thing.

It came as he had anticipated the next day. Miss Ranger sent it up by
special messenger.

"Good!" said Brodrick.

He undid the parcel hurriedly. The inner cover was addressed to Miss
Ranger in Tanqueray's handwriting. It bore the post-mark, Chagford.

"He's been at Chagford all the time!" said Gertrude.

(She had picked up the wrapper which Brodrick had thrown upon the
floor.)

Silence.

"T-t-t. It would have saved a day," she said, "if he'd sent this direct
to you instead of to Miss Ranger. Why couldn't he when he knew we were
so rushed?"

"Why, indeed?" he thought.

"There must have been more corrections," he said.

"She can't have typed them in th