Except for Pink's eager voice, the room was still. The four other men sat like statues, leaning forward. As he waited for the reply, the boy became suddenly conscious of the odd expression of their faces. He had meant to help both Dick and himself--was he helping? The thought that had already found a place in Dick's mind, the thought that they were in the hands of a merciless agent, whose whole object was to prove them guilty, whose own advantage, whose future perhaps, lay in proving them guilty--and that the course to be followed was not a matter for offhand decision, came now to him, and he faltered. Captain Fargo shook his head. “No,” said he, huskily, “not even of Lake Michigan.” “Go on, Harper. Perhaps you can tell us. Your memory's better than Smiley's.” When Beveridge spoke that last sentence, he made a mistake. Pink glanced at Dick, and dropped his eyes. When he raised them, his lips were closed tight, as if he were afraid to open them at all. “Well, go on.” Pink shook his head. “Don't be a fool, Harper. If you can help me get McGlory, it may make it easier for you.” “But him--” Pink motioned toward Dick--“would it make it easier for him?” Beveridge shook his head. “I don't believe the Lord a'mighty could save him.” “Then,” said Pink, with a flash of anger, “you can go to hell for all o' me!” Beveridge sat thinking. He looked at Dick from under his eyebrows, studying the man with shrewd eyes. With the same scrutiny, he looked at Pink. Then he drew an envelope from his pocket and consulted a list that had been jotted on the back; and followed this with a Milwaukee time-table, which he studied with eye and finger. “It's now--” he looked at his watch--“nine-twelve. We 'll make the nine-forty. Come along with me, Smiley.” Captain Fargo asked the question that Dick would not ask. “What are you going to do with the boys, Mr. Beveridge?” “We're going to Milwaukee now, on the nine-forty.” “To Milwaukee!” “Yes. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you.” Dick and Pink took their hats and rose. Wilson stepped back to fall in at Pink's shoulder, leaving Smiley to his superior. Suddenly Captain Fargo, after a moment of puzzled silence, broke out with, “Wait--has anybody seen or heard of Henry?” All looked blank. “Where was he seen last?” asked the Special Agent. “He was here on the beach after supper. We had a little chat together. He'd been uptown after some tobacco, and said he was going right out to the _Schmidt_, and would be spending the night there.” “He hasn't been around since?” “No--not here.” “You haven't seen him?” This was addressed to Pink. Beveridge wheeled suddenly on him in asking it, and raised his voice with the idea of bullying him into a reply. But Pink shook his head. “They wouldn't likely have lugged him across the pier with them. He may be on the _Schmidt_ yet. How about it, Bert?” “I don't think so. I looked around the cabin. Shall I look again?”