But still more astounding developments in this phase of the case were soon to come. There resided in Toronto, Canada, at this time, one Charles T. Long, a young man whose father was the publisher and part proprietor of an influential newspaper. Some time before this Long had been employed as a reporter on one or two Chicago morning papers, and in the performance of his duties he had met Dr. Cronin on numerous occasions. He had, moreover, for a short period been a member of a secret beneficial society with which the physician was identified, and hence could claim something more than a passing acquaintance with him. When therefore on the night of Friday, May 10th, the morning papers of Chicago and several other cities received dispatches--the majority over the ex-reporter's own signature--to the effect that the physician was alive and in that city, and had actually been spoken to, it was taken for granted that the major portion of the mystery had been solved. No mere _resume_ could do justice to what might well be termed the devilish ingenuity with which these dispatches were framed, and it is necessary to quote them at length. The one received by the Chicago _Herald_, and which was a fair type of all, ran in this wise: Dr. P. H. Cronin is in Canada. He was seen, recognized and spoken to here to-day by a former Chicagoan, and in return told of his troubles, bitterly denouncing a number of Garden City people, Alexander Sullivan particularly. The missing and supposed-to-be-murdered physician seemed to be slightly deranged. C. T. Long, who for three years was intimately acquainted with Dr. Cronin in Chicago, was walking down Yonge street shortly after 11 o'clock this morning, and when opposite the Arcade came face to face with the missing Irish nationalist. He was accompanied by a man of shorter stature. "Hello, Doc; what are you doing here?" was Long's greeting. To this the doctor answered "Hello," and then pausing and drawing himself up in an injured manner, continued: "You have me at a disadvantage, sir. What do you want?" "Why, Cronin, is it possible that you don't remember me?" "I do not know you, sir, and shall have you handed over to the police in case you bother me further."