ned negotiations through my connections looking to a sale of your
farm with its crop and equipment, complete as a going concern. I
succeeded in getting an offer of the $40,000 you set on it, and had
all the papers drawn up, when I discovered that among us we had made
a serious omission. You will remember that, a good many years ago,
when you were taking on some fresh obligations, you transferred the
homestead into your wife's name. I assured the purchaser that there
would be no difficulty about getting title from your wife, but as all
the buildings are on the homestead quarter he would agree to nothing
better than paying $20,000 for the rest of your land, leaving the
homestead quarter, with the buildings, stock, and implements, out of
the transaction. As his price seemed a fair one for the balance of
the property, and as I assumed your need of the money was urgent, I
closed a deal on that basis, cashed the agreement, and remitted the
proceeds to you at once by wire. I trust my actions in the matter
meet with your approval,

"Yours sincerely,

"GEORGE BRADSHAW."

Harris placed the letter in the hands of his wife. She tried to read
it, but a great happiness enveloped her as a flood and the
typewritten characters seemed to swim before her. "What does it mean,
John?" she asked, noting his restrained excitement. "What does it
mean?"

"It means that the homestead quarter was not sold--after all--that it
is still yours, with the buildings, and machinery, and stock, and
this year's crop just ready for cutting."

She raised her eyes to his. "Still ours, John, you mean. Still ours."

In the rapid succession of events everyone seemed to have forgotten,
or disregarded, Gardiner. But at this moment the doctor came rushing
out of the house.

"Gardiner's gone!" he exclaimed, as he came up to the men.

Some of the party removed their hats.

"Oh, not that way--not that way!" exclaimed the doctor. "I mean he's
gone--skipped--beat it, if you understand. Most extraordinary! I was
taking his pulse. It was about normal, and he seemed resting easier,
so I slipped downstairs for the antidote. When I went back--I was
only gone a moment--there wasn't sight or sound of him."

The men stared at each other for a moment; then followed the doctor
in a race for Gardiner's room. They found it as he said. There was
neither sight nor sound of Gardiner.

Sergeant Grey conducted a swift examination, not of Gardiner's room,
but of the one i