“It is all mighty queer,” Barry murmured. “Have you ever heard from your nephew since the letter came from Canada?”
“We have reason to believe that he is now in South America,” Mrs. Morganson said. “I believe that he was taken away from my property because he had discovered something that certain parties do not want known.”
“There was a Frenchman who disappeared at the same time,” Barry pressed. “What of him? Was he married?”
“Yes, he was married, and his wife was also working at the lodge when her husband left. Nothing has ever been heard of them since that time.”
For another half-hour they talked of the mystery, and then Barry and his father left. Nothing definite had been agreed to, though Mr. Garrison had expressed a desire to make a trip to Arrowtip himself and spend a night or two in the lodge alone. But Mrs. Morganson was not in favor of the idea.
“Let us wait until spring comes before we do anything else,” she advised. “It is so cold and disagreeable now. I will not rent it to anyone from now on, and when the warm weather comes we can have some more private detectives put on the case. Let’s not worry about it until later.”
Barry and his father went home and talked over the situation at length, and it was agreed between them that when spring came they would go to the lake, together with the other boys, and have another opportunity to match wits with the disturbing element of the hunting lodge.
School was not to begin before Tuesday, and on Monday morning Barry stood at the general desk in the local post office, writing out a card. No one else was in the place at the time except the two clerks back of the windows. While Barry was busily engaged, the door opened and a schoolmate named Charlie Black came in. He was a short, energetic young fellow with glasses and shrewd, laughing eyes, a great favorite at the high school, where he led in debates and any form of public speaking.
“Hello, little fellow!” Barry greeted, using the name most frequently applied to young Mr. Black. “Looking for a letter from your girl friend?”
“Hello, mystery hunter! No, I’m going to buy some stamps.” This having been taken care of, Charlie approached the desk and leaned on it.