“No, Father, but this letter that's been following me from one place to another has got some queer news in it.” “What's up, lass? Tha looks as if summat was up.” “The thing that's happened has given me a great deal to think of,” was her answer. “It's about Mr. Temple Barholm and Mr. Strangeways.” He became wide-awake at once, sitting up and turning in his chair in testy anxiety. “Now, now,” he exclaimed, “I hope that cracked chap's not gone out an' out mad an' done some mischief. I towd Temple Barholm it was a foolish thing to do, taking all that trouble about him. Has he set fire to th' house or has he knocked th' poor lad on th' head?” “No, he hasn't, Father. He's disappeared, and Mr. Temple Barholm's disappeared, too.” “Disappeared?” Hutchinson almost shouted. “What for, i' the Lord's name?” “Nobody knows for certain, and people are talking wild. The village is all upset, and all sorts of silly things are being said.” “What sort o' things?” “You know what servants at big houses are--how they hear bits of talk and make much of it,” she explained. “They've been curious and chattering among themselves about Mr. Strangeways from the first. It was Burrill that said he believed he was some relation that was being hid away for some good reason. One night Mr. Temple Barholm and Captain Palliser were having a long talk together, and Burrill was about--” “Aye, he'd be about if he thought there was a chance of him hearing summat as was none of his business,” jerked out Hutchinson, irately. “They were talking about Mr. Strangeways, and Burrill heard Captain Palliser getting angry; and as he stepped near the door he heard him say out loud that he could swear in any court of justice that the man he had seen at the west room window--it's a startling thing, Father--was Mr. James Temple Barholm.” For the moment her face was pale. Hereupon Hutchinson sprang up. “What!” His second shout was louder than his first. “Th' liar! Th' chap's dead, an' he knows it. Th' dommed mischief-makin' liar!” Her eyes were clear and speculatively thoughtful, notwithstanding her lack of color. “There have been people that have been thought dead that have come back to their friends alive. It's happened many a time,” she said. “It wouldn't be so strange for a man that had no friends to be lost in a wild, far-off place where there was neither law nor order, and where every man was fighting for his own life and the gold he was mad after. Particularly a man that was shamed and desperate and wanted to hide himself. And, most of all, it would be easy, if he was like Mr. Strangeways, and couldn't remember, and had lost himself.” As her father listened, the angry redness of his countenance moderated its hue. His eyes gradually began to question and his under jaw fell slightly. “Si' thee, lass,” he broke out huskily, “does that mean to say tha believes it?”