She spread open the telegraph form which she had been holding all this while, and laid it on the desk before him. "Breward, Grand Central Hotel, Bursfield." "'Regret to say children missing. Supposed left Inistow Cove Tossell's boat Saturday night. Boat found ashore Clatworthy Beach. Search parties along coast. Will report any news.--Chichester.'" "When did you get this, ma'am, making so bold?" "At nine this morning. If you look, you will see the telegram was handed in at 8.37, and received here at 8.50--is it not? The sender is a Mr. Chichester, a clergyman and a friend of mine." "Aye," said Mr. Hucks, after slowly examining the telegram and the office stamp. He raised his formidable grey eyes and fixed them full on Miss Sally. "Oh," she said after awhile, but without blanching, "I see what's in your mind." "No you don't," he answered abruptly. "It _did_ cross my mind, but it's not there any longer. You're straight. And you're quality--though maybe your kind don't answer to the pictcher-books. . . . Well, about this wire now. . . . What's your opinion?" "Why, that the children are lost." "Meanin' by that drowned--or just missing?" "From that message what must one conclude?" "Well," said Mr. Hucks slowly, after another perusal of the telegram, "I don't conclude much from it; but from my knowledge of the gal-child, I jolly well conclude that they're no more drowned than you or me. They've just made another bolt for it, and the shipwrecked boat's no more than a blind." "They were comfortable enough at Inistow Farm. Why should they want to bolt?" Miss Sally urged.