“Yes, but only an office,—which is closed up for the summer.” “Ridiculous! They ought to find him all the more easily if he is a man of importance.” “I don’t mean of public importance, but I think—oh, I don’t know what! But I’m sure there’s something mysterious about him.” “I’m sure of that, too! And you know nothing of his private life, Mrs Blackwood?” “No; I’ve heard that he is a widower, but nobody seems quite certain. As I told you, up here, nobody questions one’s neighbors.” “Isn’t it necessary, before members are taken into the club?” “Oh, yes; but Mr North wasn’t a member of the club. Lots of the summer people aren’t members but they use the clubhouse and nobody makes much difference between members and non-members. It isn’t like the more fashionable beaches or resorts. We’re a bit primitive up here.” “Well, tell me of North’s financial standing. He’s a rich man?” “Not that I know of. But he always has enough to do what he likes. Nobody is very rich up here, yet nobody is really poor. We’re a medium-sized lot, in every way.” “Yet North owns a fine motor boat.” “About the best and fastest up here. But he doesn’t own it, he rents it by the season. Most people do that.” “I see. And that not very pleasant factotum of his,—Joe Mills,—is he a native product?” “No, he came up with Mr North. He’s grumpy, I admit, but he’s a good sort after all. And devoted to his master.” “Ah, then he must be inconsolable at North’s disappearance.” “No; on the contrary he takes it calmly enough. He says North knows his own business, and will come back when he gets ready.” “Then he knows where North is——” “He pretends he does,” corrected Claire. “I’m not sure that he is as easy about the matter as he pretends. I saw him this morning and I think he is pretty well disturbed about it all.” “Guess I’ll go to see him. Thank you, Mrs Blackwood, for your patience and courtesy in answering my questions.” “Then, Mr Wise, if you’re really grateful, do tell me what you think about the Varian affair. That’s much more mysterious and much more important than the matter of Lawrence North’s disappearance. Are they connected?” “It looks so,—doesn’t it?” “Yes,—but that’s no answer. Do you think they are?” “I do, Mrs Blackwood,—I surely do.” And Pennington Wise walked briskly over to the bungalow of Lawrence North. He found Mills in no kindly mood. “Whatcha want now?” was his greeting, and his scowl pointed his words. “I want you to take me out for a sail in Mr North’s motor boat.” “Well, you gotcha nerve with you! What makes you think I’ll do that?” “Because it’s for your own best interests to do so.” Wise looked the man straight in the eye, and had the satisfaction of seeing Mills’ own gaze waver. “Whatcha mean by that?” he growled, truculently. “That if you don’t take me, I’ll think you have some reason for refusing.” “I gotta work.” “Your work will keep. We’ll be gone only a few hours at most. How is the tide now?” “Plumb low.”