“Did you send a couple of photographs to a New York detective agency a few days ago with inquiries concerning some parties you wanted located?”
“I did,” said the Harvester. “But I was not expecting any such immediate returns.”
“Your questions touched on a case that long has been in the hands of the agency, and they telegraphed the parties. The following day the people had a letter, giving them the information they required, from another source.”
“That is where Uncle Henry showed his fine Spencerian hand,” commented the Harvester. “It always will be a great satisfaction that I got my fist in first.”
“Is Miss Jameson here?”
“No,” said the Harvester. “My wife is at home. Her surname was Ruth Jameson, but we have been married since June. Did you wish to speak with Mrs. Langston?”
“I came for that purpose. My name is Kennedy. I am the law partner and the closest friend of the young lady's grandfather. News of her location has prostrated her grandmother so that he could not leave her, and I was sent to bring the young woman.”
“Oh!” said the Harvester. “Well you will have to interview her about that. One word first. She does not know that I sent those pictures and made that inquiry. One other word. She is just recovering from a case of fever, induced by wrong conditions of life before I met her. She is not so strong as she appears. Understand you are not to be abrupt. Go very gently! Her feelings and health must be guarded with extreme care.”
The Harvester opened the door, and as she saw the stranger, the Girl's eyes widened, and she arose and stood waiting.
“Ruth,” said the Harvester, “this is a man who has been making quite a search for you, and at last he has you located.”