"My child," said the good doctor, "you are worn out. You must have lunch and take a good rest. In the meantime we will do everything we can to find your father. Perhaps he has lost his way and is wandering in the woods somewhere." "No," said Phoebe, shaking her head miserably, "he never loses his way. He knows the trails better than I do myself." The doctor himself brought Phoebe a tray of lunch. She was ravenously hungry. "The poor little thing hasn't eaten for hours," he thought, glancing at her covertly, as he returned with a basin of water, a soft towel and Miss Campbell's private bottle of eau de cologne. When she had finished eating, he made her stretch out on the divan while he gave her face and hands and wrists an aromatic bath. Never before had Phoebe been ministered to and waited on. She smiled at the doctor with dumb gratitude. "When people are hungry and tired and discouraged, they have a pretty hard time holding on to their faith, Phoebe," he said. "Even when they haven't anything to worry about, it's hard enough. You go to sleep now and I promise you we will start on the search for your father at once." Phoebe raised her eyes gratefully to his. In those clear brown depths she read strength, gentleness and sympathy. She felt she was looking into the face of an angel with a shiny bald head and shaggy red-gray eyebrows. "I believe God sent you," she said, and in a few moments dropped off into a deep exhausted sleep. After luncheon or dinner, whatever that meal might be called in camp, Percy got out his motor cycle and proceeded to the Antler's Inn to ask for news of Phoebe's father. Ben took the trail to Indian Head and Billie and Dr. Hume went down to the village in the motor car to drum up a search party or find guides to help them scour the mountains. In neither attempt were they in the least successful. On the way down the mountain, Billie decided to unburden herself of something that had been on her mind for a long time. "You have never seen Phoebe's father, have you, Dr. Hume?" The doctor shook his head. "Have you ever heard of a case like his? I mean forgetting one's past." "Oh, yes. I have seen a number of cases. The patient usually loses his memory altogether in time and goes insane." "But he's not insane, doctor. He's not even going insane. Really and truly, except about always trying to find a physician, his brain is as clear as anybody's." The doctor smiled. He liked this earnest, enthusiastic girl who was always doing things for other people and modestly disclaiming credit. There was something masculine in her disregard for small things and the largeness of her views. "A very nice man has instilled her with extremely big ideas about life," he reflected. "She is furthermore a wholesome, healthy young creature with a high order of intelligence and a very warm, tender heart."