THE SEARCH PARTY.
The Admiral and the Lieutenant searched Washington quickly yet
thoroughly, for the man who was supposed to have the fateful letter in
his possession was prominent enough to have his every movement observed
and recorded by the newspapers and discussed by the clubs. No one at
Washington had seen him or heard of him since his departure for Old
Point.
"Let us hope, dear boy," said the Admiral, as the disappointed and
weary men lunched together, "that he has gone to the Pacific Coast to
develop that placer, for no one out there will take any interest in
that unfortunate note."
"I should be glad to hope so," Jermyn replied, "but suppose that he has
gone to New York? That is his usual base of operations, and should he
have the letter, and meet in New York some one who knows me, it would
be just like him to show the letter and talk about it."
"I shall at once go to New York, find him, if he is there, and stop
him," said the Admiral.
"But, Admiral----"
"But me no buts, my dear boy. I assure you that if it weren't for my
humiliation at having been a thoughtless old donkey I'd enjoy the job
almost as well as if I were in active service and in chase of an enemy.
A chase will do me good--keep me from rusting, you know."
"But, Admiral, you were having a delightful time at the Point; there
was a host of your friends and old comrades there, and they will soon
be going away. I've three days' leave of absence, and no farther use to
make of it here. Still more, I'm the party most at interest, you know."
"But I'm the one most at fault," persisted the Admiral. It was finally
agreed that there should be a division of labor, the Admiral returning
to Old Point, where he might learn from some one the destination of
the supposed custodian of the letter, while Jermyn should hurry to New
York, where it would not be very hard to find the wanted man if he were
there.
The Lieutenant had not been long in the metropolis before he learned
that even a man known throughout the nation could not easily be found
in a city as large as New York. He first went to a club where some
old acquaintances were so glad to see him that he had hard work in
getting away from them. They all knew by name and reputation the man
he was looking for and congratulated Jermyn on having any excuse for
seeing a man who had made the fortunes of a dozen other men while
making his own, but of the man's whereabouts they were as ignorant as
Jermyn himself. Then Jermyn made the rounds of the principal hotels,
but he found that their number had trebled since his own period of duty
near New York, ten years earlier, and he began to think seriously of
applying for an additional leave of absence for three days, on the
ground of urgent and unexpected personal business.
He was so weary at the end of a single day's search, that he had not
the heart to go to club or theatre, so he dined dismally and alone at
Delmonico's, and then sauntered over to Madison Square, dropped upon a
bench, and blamed the trees for not being as fully in leaf as those he
had left in the South, three hundred miles away.
Suddenly a gentleman arose from a bench near by, walked to and fro two
or three times, stopped in front of the lonely officer, and said:
"I beg your pardon, sir, but aren't you Lieutenant Jermyn, of the
artillery service?"
"Mr. Highwood!" exclaimed Jermyn, springing to his feet, and extending
his hand, "this is rare good fortune for me."
"And for me," replied Phil; "for you are the only person I know who has
seen my family within a week, and I'm as lonesome without that family
as you can ever have been at the smallest post you ever served at. Take
pity on a poor fellow, and tell me all you can."
"Your loss is their gain," said Jermyn, when both had seated
themselves. "I never saw Mrs. Highwood looking better. As for your
daughter, she is one of the most engaging young women I ever met,
except her mother, whom she greatly resembles. Miss Wardlow, whom Mrs.
Highwood told me was in poor health when she left New York, is simply
radiant; she is the beauty of the Point, although she doesn't seem to
know it. They all talk of you a great deal; to hear Miss Trixy is to
believe you the only man on the face of the earth."
"Bless her!" said Phil. "By the way, there are some neighbors of ours
there, I believe--the Trewmans. Have you chanced to meet them?"
As he asked this question, Phil looked sidewise at his companion, and
was sure, despite the uncertain light of an electric lamp, that the
officer's face colored a little. But Jermyn replied, in his ordinary
tone:
"Delightful people--delightful! By the way, I've a suspicion that
you're in danger of losing your sister-in-law; at least as a member of
your immediate family. Mr. Trewman is devotion itself, and although the
young lady has many admirers, Mr. Trewman seems to be the favored one."
"Ah! Well, I don't know that either of them could do better. They
are already very well acquainted, and Fenie is quite fond of Harry's
sister, whom I imagine does not disapprove of the match."
Jermyn did not reply, so Highwood continued to talk about the Trewmans,
and particularly about Kate; and Jermyn replied briefly, from time to
time, speaking of Kate so admiringly, yet guardedly, that Phil began to
wonder whether the officer had not been making love with traditional
military haste, and had his suit discouraged. Being too good a man to
persist in talking of a subject regarding which his companion felt any
reason for restraint, he hastened to change the subject, and the two
men were soon engaged in general chat. Phil soon asked:
"How long shall you remain in the city, Mr. Jermyn? Or perhaps you are
to be on duty here?"
"Only on personal business, which may take three or four days."
"Good! I'll try to see that your spare time passes pleasantly. Several
new military pictures are to be exhibited at my club, and I'll be
glad to have you see them, if you find the time. I received several
invitations in blank to-day; let me give you one."
Phil drew some papers from his pocket, and began to search for the
invitations, holding his letters and other papers so that the light
might strike them fairly. Suddenly he was conscious of a start. He
looked up inquiringly, and saw Jermyn gazing intently at a letter which
Phil held in his hand.
"Ah?" said Phil, quickly, "apparently you recognize this picture.
Perhaps you can tell me what it is. It has puzzled me not a little, for
it is on the back of a letter from my wife, who sketches a little, but
this sketch is not in her style."
"It reminds me," replied Jermyn deliberately, and with a visible
affectation of carelessness, "of a bit of far Western scenery, which I
used to know quite well, having been there on duty."
Jermyn wished he could be alone a moment--wished he were a boy again,
and in the centre of a great field or forest, where he could give a
great, joyous shout. That missing letter! It had reached rightful
hands at last--but how? He must telegraph the Admiral at once; how
delighted the dear old fellow would be! Still, how in the name of all
that was mysterious, had the tormenting screed found its way to the
man to whom it was written? There was no address, nor even name, on
the paper when he glanced at it in the fort, so the man for whom the
sketches were made could not have known to whom it belonged.
"When did you receive the sketch, Mr. Highwood?" Jermyn asked. "Perhaps
there is an artist at the Point, of whom I have not heard."
"It came this morning," Phil replied, hoping at the same time that
his face was not telling of what was running in his mind. What would
the man beside him think if he could know the contents of the letter?
"It was evidently begun on one day and finished on another, for there
are hints in it of a story which Mrs. Highwood will tell me when she
reaches home. She is a dear, good wife, but she does hate to write a
longer letter than is absolutely necessary."
"I wonder that she gets time to write at all," said Jermyn, "for she is
in great demand. She has probably written you that she has met several
old acquaintances; nice people from everywhere seem to gravitate toward
Old Point."
Then Jermyn lapsed into such deep thought about that letter, and the
ways in which it might have got back to its owner, that he almost
forgot that he was not alone.
"What can be the matter with the fellow?" wondered Highwood. "If Trif
were almost any other woman in the world, I would think that there
was some mystery in which she and he were mutually interested. I shall
write her before I sleep, and ask her all about it; I don't know when
in my life I've been so curious about anything."
"By the way, Mr. Highwood," said Jermyn, with the idea that he might
get some clue to the course of the letter, "I ought to tell you that
your daughter is flirting most outrageously with one of the finest
gentlemen at the Point. He is a retired admiral--Allison--perhaps you
may have heard his name?"
"Heard of him?" echoed Phil; "all Americans are proud of him. That
isn't all; he acted as Trixy's amanuensis a day or two ago, and I
suspect that some of the funny things in the letter which I received
were devised by him; I've played that trick myself with Trixy's
missives at times."
"Possibly you are right," was the reply, "for he is as full of fun as
any one I know."
"Perhaps the Admiral was the artist who drew that sketch?" Phil
suggested.
"H'm! No, I think not. I know his style."
"Would you mind asking him on your return?" persisted Phil.
"Not in the least. I probably shall see him to-morrow night, and----"
"What! Is he, too, coming to New York?"
"Oh, no. He had intended to come, but I came instead."
"But how can you see him to-morrow night?"
"Easily. I shall take the morning train, which will get me to the fort
by nine o'clock, at the latest."
"Excuse me, but didn't I understand you to say that you would be here
several days?"
"Er--I had intended to remain several days, but I've had the bad
manners to think occasionally about business while we've been talking,
and something has come to mind which will compel my return at once.
'Tis a mean thing to admit, but greatly though I've enjoyed meeting
you here--and I assure you that I never in my life met any one more
gladly--my personal business, which brought me here, has persisted in
popping into my head. I left the fort in great haste--so great that I
left some of the threads of my business behind me."
Phil Highwood was a gentleman, so he detested any one who pried into
the private affairs of others, but for a moment he wished himself a
mind-reader, or hypnotist, or something of the sort. Meanwhile, Jermyn,
who felt that he must be alone, said:
"Won't you honor me with some message to your family?"
"Tell my wife to write me who drew that sketch, please?"
The two men separated, and Jermyn hurried up Broadway, feeling younger
than he had at any time in the last ten years.