ome. I feel wretchedly
uneasy. Something tells me that things have gone wrong with my
father."

"Oh, I hope not," said Dr. Lawrence. "There is no word of ill-news
here. The urgency may be quite on another score."

"I should like to start at once, sir," said Jack. "I know my way about
the Continent very well. I have spent two or three vacations in
Italy."

"Quite so, quite so," said Dr. Lawrence. "Have you plenty of money for
the journey, Haydon?"

"I don't need more than sufficient to carry me to London, sir,"
replied Jack. "I shall go there to Mr. Buxton, my father's friend, who
manages all his business affairs, and he will supply me with funds."

Jack was on fire to be off to Brindisi and see what was wrong. He made
short work of his packing, and within an hour he was driving to
Longhampton to catch the London express. He caught it with scarcely
two minutes to spare, and was soon whirling towards the great city. A
short distance from Longhampton, he caught a glimpse of Rushmere
School in the distance on its hill, and the strip of heath country
running up to the foot of the slope. This brought to mind his
adventure, which remained as mysterious an affair as ever. The police
had been most active, stations had been watched, inquiries had been
made in every direction, but all to no result. The Thugs had vanished
and left no trace behind. But the thought of his encounter on the
heath soon faded from Jack's mind. It was crushed out by the pressing
question of the moment. What was the matter at Brindisi? Why had
Risley cabled and not his father? Had something happened to his
father? Jack felt wretchedly uneasy, for he and his father were bound
together by no ordinary ties of affection.

In the first place, he had, as far as he knew, no other living
relation. His mother had been dead for many years, and his father was
the only close friend that Jack knew. Then the elder Haydon had always
been a great hero in his son's eyes. His profession of mining engineer
had carried him into many wild corners of the world, and the store of
marvellous tales which he would pour forth for the boy's delight had
made Jack's holidays a time of intense pleasure. Mr. Haydon had always
made a point, if it was possible, of keeping himself free for such
times, and he and Jack had spent the weeks joyously, until the day for
return to school had become a Black Monday indeed in the boy's eyes.

As Jack mused over memories of other days, his anx