ned
about five years ago."

"Oh, I think I know to what you refer, Phil," cried Dave, quickly. "I
remember now that you told me about your old Uncle Lester. Didn't you
ever hear from him?"

"Not a word, Dave. And that is why my father can't sell the land."

"I don't understand this," said Ben Basswood.

"And neither do I," added Shadow Hamilton.

"Well, it's this way: About five years ago my folks were connected with
a trust company in the town where we live. My Uncle Lester was one of
several men who had charge of certain funds, and these funds were kept
in a safe-deposit vault belonging to the company. One day it was found
that some of these funds had disappeared. Suspicion pointed to my uncle,
and although he protested his entire innocence, some of the other trust
company officials were in favor of having him arrested. A warrant was
sworn out, but before it could be served my uncle left home and went to
another State. Then the local paper came out with an article which
stated that the bank officials had evidence that Lester Lawrence was
undoubtedly guilty. My uncle got a copy of this paper--it was found
later in the room he had occupied at a hotel--and this evidently
frightened him so much that he disappeared."

"Do you mean to say that he disappeared for good?" queried Ben.

"Yes, he took a train out of town, and that was the last seen or heard
of him. My father did all he could to locate Uncle Lester. He had men
searching for him, and he advertised in the newspapers. But up to the
present time he hasn't heard a word from him or of him. He is half
inclined to believe that my uncle is dead."

"Perhaps he went to some foreign country," suggested Dave.

"But how does that affect the title to the land?" questioned Shadow
Hamilton.

"Easily enough," was the reply of the shipowner's son. "My uncle held a
one-quarter interest in the tract. In order to give a clear title to the
railroad company it would be necessary for Uncle Lester to sign the
deed. The railroad company--nor any one else for that matter--won't buy
the land without a clear title."

"I don't wonder that your father is worried," said Dave,
sympathetically. "I suppose he feels just as bad over the continued
absence of your uncle as he does over the fact that he can't sell the
land and make a profit on it."

"That's just it, Dave," answered Phil. "We'd give a good deal to know
what has become of Uncle Lester."

"I suppose he doesn't dare come b