that house and I
disregarded the butler, second man, valet, and seven assorted servants;
and Mr. Willett Senior heard the noise and came to the dining-room door.
'Well, what the devil's the matter?' he said. I said: 'I only want to
ask you one question, sir. Why are you not in a state of terrible mental
agitation over the tragic disappearance of your son?'

"'Because,' he replied, coolly, 'I know my son, Reginald. If the
newspapers and the public will let him alone he'll come back when he gets
ready.'

"'Are you not alarmed?'

"'Not in the least.'

"'Then why did you return from Europe and hasten up here?'

"'Too many newspaper men hanging around.' He glanced insultingly at the
silver.

"I let that go. 'Mr. Willett,' I said, 'they found your son's camera on
the trail. Your butler exhibits it to the police and reporters and tells
them a glib story. He told it to me, also. But what I want to know is,
why nobody has thought of developing the films.'

"'My butler,' said Mr. Willett, eyeing me, 'did develop the films.'

"'Was there anything on them?'

"'Some trees.'

"'May I see them?'

"He scrutinised me.

"'After you've seen them will you take your friend and go away and
remain?' he asked wearily.

"'Yes,' I said.

"He walked into the breakfast room, opened a silver box, and returned
with half a dozen photographs. The first five presented as many views of
foliage; I used a jeweller's glass on them, but discovered nothing else."

"Was there anything to jar you on the sixth photograph?" inquired
Langdon, interested.

Sayre made an impressive gesture; he was a trifle inclined toward the
picturesque and histrionic.

"Curt, on the ground under a tree in the sixth photograph lay something
which, until last evening, did not seem to me important." He paused
dramatically.

"Well, what was it? A bandersnatch?" asked Langdon irritably.

"Examine it!"

Langdon took the photograph. "It looks like a--a hammock."

"What that girl held in her hand last night resembled a hammock."

"Hey?"

Sayre leaned over his shoulder and laid the stem of his pipe on the
extreme edge of the photograph.

"If you look long enough and hard enough," he said, "you will just be
able to make out the vague outline of a slender human hand among the
leaves, holding the end of the hammock. See it?"

Langdon looked long and steadily. Presently he fished out a jeweller's
glass, screwed it into his eye, and looked again.

"Do you t