e given me time
to say what I've got to say before one or other of us may have to rush off
somewhere else by another last train."

"Do for God's sake say what you've got to say!" cried Mr. Upton.

"Well, I've seen a man who thinks he may have seen the boy!"

"Alive?"

"And perfectly well--but for his asthma--on Thursday."

The ironmaster thanked God in a dreadful voice; it was Lettice who calmed
him, not he her. Her eyes only shone a little, but his were blinded by
the first ray of light.

"Where was it?" he asked, when he could ask anything.

"I'll tell you in a minute. I want first to be convinced that it really
was your son. Did the boy take any special interest in Australia?"

"Rather!" cried Lettice, the sister of three boys.

"What kind of interest?"

"He wanted to go out there. It had just been talked about." She looked
at her father. "I wouldn't let him go," he said. "Why?"

"I want to know just how it came to be talked about."

"A fool of a doctor in town recommended it."

Lettice winced, but Thrush nodded as though that tallied.

"Did he recommend any particular vessel?"

"Yes, a sailing ship--the _Seringapatam--_ an old East Indiaman they've
turned into a kind of floating hospital. I wouldn't hear of the beastly
tub."

"Do you know when she was to sail?"

"I did know," said Lettice. "I believe it was just about now."

"She sailed yesterday," said Thrush, impressively; "and your brother, if
it was your brother, talked a good deal about her to this man. He told
him all about your having always been in favour of it, Miss Upton, and his
father not. I'm bound to say it sounds as though it may have been the
boy."

Thrush seemed to be keeping something back; but the prime and absorbing
question of identity prevented the others from noticing this.

"It must have been!" cried Mr. Upton. "Who was the man, and where exactly
did he see him?"

"First on Thursday morning, and last on Thursday night. But perhaps I'd
better tell you about my informant, since we've only his word for
Thursday, and only his suspicions as to what has happened since. In the
first place he's a semi-public man, though I don't suppose you know his
name. It's Baumgartner--Dr. Otto Baumgartner--a German scientist of some
distinction."

The ironmaster made a remark which did him little credit, and Thrush
continued with some pride: "There was some luck in it, of course, for he
was the very first man I struck who'