“By the way,” said Harvey, after they had chatted for some time, “this morning's _Tribune_ has a good joke on one of your Truesdale neighbors. Did you see it?” “No. Tell me about it.” “Why, it seems that he--it was Judge Black--is up at Waupaca. He went there in a hurry from Lake Geneva to get away from some cases that were following him and spoiling the vacation he's been trying to get since July. He moved so quickly that his trunk left him and went up to Minnesota or somewhere. Well, the Judge was asked to speak at an entertainment the first night at the hotel. An hour or so before the time set for the speech he fell into the lake and ruined his only suit of clothes. There wasn't a man there anywhere near his size, so he appeared before the guests of the Grand View Hotel in the 'bus man's overalls.” Katherine laughed heartily. “Father will enjoy that,” she said. “He loves to laugh at Judge Black.” And she added, “I wonder where father is.” “Do you return to Truesdale to-day?” Harvey asked. “No. Not until day after to-morrow. We go to the South Side to dinner, father and I. Father told me to meet him here at half-past three.” Harvey drew out his watch. “It is after four now.” “Yes, I'm a little worried. Father is usually very prompt. He had to see some men about the railroad, but he said it wouldn't take him long. I'm afraid something has happened.” So was Harvey. The mention of Mr. Porter brought back to him certain peculiar facts, and for a moment he thought fast. Evidently something was happening. In case there was a chance of Tillman City wavering, Jim Weeks should know of Porter's activity and at once. Harvey rose abruptly. “Excuse me. I find I have forgotten some work at the office.” “Must you go? I am sorry.” She rose and extended her hand. “I shan't be at home either night or I'd ask you to come and see me. But you are coming down to Truesdale soon, remember.” “Yes,” said Harvey. “Good-by.” He walked rapidly to the Washington Building. Jim had left no word, and Harvey called up the Ashland Avenue residence, but could learn nothing. The Northern Station master returned a similar report: Mr. Weeks had not been seen. Harvey sat down and rested his elbows on the desk. Already it might be too late. He called to mind Jim's business arrangements, in the hope of striking a clew by chance. He was interrupted by a few callers, whom he disposed of with a rush; and he was closing his desk with a vague idea of hunting Jim in person when he was called to the 'phone. It was the station master. “I was mistaken, Mr. West,” he said. “Fourteen has just got in from Manchester, and he says he took Mr. Weeks out at noon.” Harvey rang off and called up the M. & T. terminal station at Manchester. “Hello. This is Chicago. Is Mr. Weeks there?” “Well--say, hello! Hold on, central!--Will you call him to the 'phone, please?” “Why not?” “Where? At the shops?” “Sorry, but I guess you'll have to interrupt him. Important business.”