"Likely enough he has been hard hit in the pocket department," rejoined her lord. "Probably, `poor Mr Vallance' has been dabbling in bubble investments; and his particular bubble has--gone the way of all bubbles. Rather rough that he should hear about it on Sunday, though, the day of all others when he has to show up in public. So he blundered over the service, did he? Well, our shepherd ought to know by this time that he can't serve two masters--ha--ha!" But when later in the afternoon Mr and Mrs Vallance, with a brace of daughters, dropped in, Mr Santorex felt persuaded that at least one of the quartet had come there with further intent than that of making a mere friendly call, and accordingly he awaited events in a kind of mental ambush congenial to his cynical soul. "Any news of Yseulte?" asked Mrs Vallance, rising to depart. "Yes. She has fallen in with a Major Winthrop and his wife. They seem very good sort of people, and the little girl is going to travel under their charge. They are neighbours of my boy George, and are returning to their ranche." "Can I have a word with you, Santorex?" said the Rev. Dudley, lingering at the gate, having told his wife and daughters to go on without him. "Er--the fact is," he continued, lowering his voice, as the other nodded assent, "the fact is--er--something rather troublesome--a mere trifle that is to say--has occurred to worry me. Have you any idea of the whereabouts of Ralph Vallance?" "Not the faintest." "Oh. I thought perhaps you might know something about him. I believe you and he were--er--on friendly terms at one time?" "Yes, we were. Why? Have _you_ heard anything about him?" "Er--well, I may say this much. I fancy the poor fellow is in need of assistance--if only I knew where he was." "Afraid I can't help you to learn. Stay. It was only lately I was turning out a lot of old correspondence, and there was a whole bundle of Ralph's letters. It was just before Chickie went away. I'll hunt them up and see if they afford any clue." The other started. A scared, anxious look came into his face at the mention of the correspondence. "Might I--might I just look over those letters?" he asked, eagerly. "H'm. I'm afraid I can hardly agree to that. But if I find anything in them likely to be of service to you I won't fail to let you know." With this, Mr Vallance was forced to be content. His late host stood shaking his head softly as he looked after his retreating figure, and that cynical half-smile played about the corners of his mouth. CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. POOR GEOFFRY AGAIN. True to Vipan's prediction, the first person they met on their return to camp was Smokestack Bill.