Mr. Gregory? Is he in?"

Blair looked up quickly at the sound of the voice and ran his eyes over
the clean-cut figure in the serge uniform. The impression, hastily
formed, of having met the man before, was strengthened by the roving
black eyes which were expectantly traveling about the room.

"This is the Legonia Fish Cannery, isn't it?"

Blair nodded. "Yes," he said. "But Mr. Gregory is not here at present."

"When will he be in?"

The words came eagerly with the brusk assurance of an immediate answer.
The crisp insistence had a decidedly familiar sound. Blair regarded the
clean-cut face of the young officer intently as he answered:

"I don't know. Will you call again or leave your name?"

"I am Mr. Gregory's son."

Blair came to meet him with outstretched hands.

"I might have known it," he said. "I am Mr. Blair, your father's
manager. I'm glad to meet you. Your father did not expect you so soon,
did he?"

The young man shook his head and smiled.

"No," he answered. "Dad thinks I'm still on the other side. I wanted to
surprise him. I wrote a letter saying I would be home as soon as
possible. I mailed the letter on the ship which brought me over." A
boyish look crept into his eyes. "Don't let on when dad comes back that
you've seen me, will you, Mr. Blair? I have to go back to camp to-night
and arrange about my discharge. It may be a week before I can be back."

The black eyes grew suddenly wistful.

"Say, Mr. Blair, don't you think there's a chance of my seeing dad
before I leave? I have until five o'clock to get my train."

Blair was unable to meet the steady gaze of his employer's son. Should
he tell the boy of his father's strange absence? Voice his own fears and
suspicions for the safety of Gregory, Sr.? By the time the young man
returned the mystery might be solved. At least they would know
something.

"What is wrong, Mr. Blair?"

The question was volleyed with quiet insistence. It demanded an answer.
The boy would not be put off. He was his father's son. Blair sought to
put the matter in as favorable a light as possible under the
circumstances. In a few words he told of the disappearance of Richard
Gregory.

Kenneth Gregory listened quietly, at times interrupting with rapid-fire
questions.

"When was he last seen?"

"Three days ago."

"You knew nothing of his plans?"

"Nothing definite," Blair evaded. "He might have gone out with the
fishermen scouting for albacore. One of Lang's boat