It was almost as if she had struck Hawley a physical blow. Although, of course, he had realized all along that there was a possibility of the story turning out to be baseless, and although the president had intimated that he himself placed no stock in the sensational rumor, and was merely sending Hawley to Baracoa in order to remove the last possible doubt from his mind, somehow the Camera Chap had been confident until that moment that he was embarked on no fruitless mission. Instinctively he had felt that Felix was a martyr instead of the rogue which the world believed him. But now this statement, coming from the missing man’s wife, seemed to dispel all hope that such was the case. “Do you know where he is, señora?” he inquired, his disappointment evident in his voice. The woman hesitated, and he caught the shade which flitted across her face. “I do,” she said at length, almost in a whisper. “He is--in Europe.” “You are quite sure, señora? Is it not possible that you, too, have been deceived?” She shook her head. “No; that is not possible--for I have been in constant communication with him. I received a letter from him only last week.” She smiled sadly. “So you see, Mr. Hawley, there is nothing for you to do.” CHAPTER VIII. THE LOST CAUSE. The Camera Chap was noted on Park Row, among other things, for the buoyancy of his nature and his refusal to permit disappointments and setbacks to ruffle him. But he was scarcely in a cheerful frame of mind as he took his leave of Señora Felix and went back to his stateroom. To have traveled several thousand miles only to discover that he had come on a fool’s errand, and, what was worse, to have had all his dreams shattered, was a severe strain even for his abundant stock of philosophy. For a long time he sat on the edge of his berth, meditating on his conversation with the wife of the missing president. One thing puzzled him exceedingly: Why had the woman taken him into her confidence to the extent of telling him that she knew the whereabouts of her husband? Why was she so keen to dissuade him from persisting in his undertaking? He took no stock in her assertion that solicitude for his welfare had caused her to take this step. Surely, he told himself, she would not have jeopardized her husband’s safety and confessed herself an accessory to a crime merely to save a stranger from getting into trouble. There must be some more weighty reason which had prompted her to intrust him with her secret. Suddenly his face lighted up, and he gave vent to a joyous ejaculation. “Of course, that must be it,” he muttered. “The poor little señora! I hate to doubt the word of a lady, but I’m afraid I’ll have to take your statements with a grain of salt.”