"Did he find it?" queried Anita.
"In time he found a place which paid him little, yet enough to keep him from starvation," he wrote, "and in time he expected to do better; in fact he did."
"He gave his address?" Mrs. Beltrán inquired agitatedly.
"I have it, señora; I will send it to you, but it is now three years, I must remind you."
"No matter, no matter, it is the strongest clue we have yet had. We may find him there, or at least may discover where he has gone. It is a step, it is many steps nearer than we have yet been able to go. I cannot thank you enough, señor. A mother's blessing go with you."
"The pleasure is mine," responded Anselmo. "I place myself at your feet, señora."
"Oh, mother! Oh, mother!" panted Anita, her breath coming and going so quickly that she could hardly speak. "To think we have been able to follow his life up to within three years of the present. So near, so near. Oh, we shall find him. I know we shall."
Her mother seized her hand and held it tightly. "I cannot wait. To-morrow we start for Barcelona," she said with decision.