"Don't!" protested Curtiss, with a despairing gesture. "I'd never thought of that. I've been thinking only of myself. Of course the papers will have it!" and he groaned again.
"Well, there's no use worrying about it," interposed Mr. Royce. "What is done is done. The thing is to find Miss Lawrence, and if anybody can find her, Lester can. I'm sure that five minutes' talk with her will straighten out the whole tangle. There's been an absurd mistake of some sort."
"No doubt," I assented, though in my heart I did doubt it very much. At any rate, the five minutes' talk could do no harm.
"Now you go away somewhere for a day or two, and leave this thing in our hands," added our junior. "What you need is rest. Don't worry any more than you can help. Let us know where you are, and we'll wire you as soon as we have any information. That's good advice, isn't it, Lester?"
"Very good," I said. "I hope Mr. Curtiss will follow it."
"No, no," he protested. "I can't go away—I must stay here—I couldn't stand it to go away."
"May I speak to you frankly, Mr. Curtiss?" I asked quietly.
"Please do," he said. "Speak as frankly as you like."
"Well, then," I began, "you'll pardon me for saying it, but I don't believe you can help us any, just at present. Besides, you need to pull yourself together."
"That's true," he agreed, and glanced at his trembling hands.