Though not acquainted with the other members of the firm, Nick long had been a personal friend of John Madden, having served him in several important financial cases. This fact, together with certain circumstances in the family history of the man, the nature of which will presently appear, not only caused Nick to regard the disappearance of the child more seriously, but also to take up the affair with increasing zest. Turning to Lucy Sloan, who was a pretty girl in the twenties, and whose face was a voucher for her honesty, Nick said more earnestly: “I am well acquainted with Mr. Madden. In fact, Lucy, I am the first person on whom he would call for aid in case his little girl is really lost. Tell me, now, just what occurred here that sent you to assist the woman who fainted.” Lucy Sloan, however, could add but little to what she already had stated. She had been walking in the park about ten minutes before, the immediate locality then being otherwise deserted, when a boy about ten years old came running toward her, crying that a woman had fainted, at the same time pointing around the curve in the direction from which he had approached. It then was about four o’clock on a charming May afternoon. Without waiting to question the boy, Lucy hurriedly directed him to watch the two children, and she then ran to the woman’s assistance, with whom Nick had observed her two or three minutes later. Returning while the detective was talking with the woman, Lucy found only the child crying in the carriage, and at once began a vain and frantic search for the missing girl. The boy also had disappeared, and all had transpired within a period of five or six minutes. In the meantime, too, Margaret Hanson had vanished. For Patsy Garvan returned just as the nurse ended her hurried statements, and his face alone told the story. “Couldn’t find her, eh?” Nick tersely questioned. “Not hide nor hair of her, chief,” said Patsy; “nor any one who had seen a woman of her description. She must have made a bee line for the avenue, and taken a conveyance of some kind.” Nick glanced around again and sized up the possibilities of the immediate locality. Twenty yards away was a divergent driveway running north, in which, as well as the one near by, the tracks left by the tires of automobiles could be distinctly seen. None of these denoted that a car had recently passed that way, however, nor had Nick seen any during the episodes described. “Are you in the habit of coming here with the children in the afternoon?” he asked a bit abruptly, again addressing the nurse. “Yes, sir, every pleasant day.” “At about this time?” “Yes, sir; from three until five.” “Did you see any one looking at you, or acting suspiciously, before the lad came and spoke to you?” “I did not, sir. There was no one near here except people passing at times.” “Would you know the boy if you were to see him again?”