"Very well. I suppose that would be best under the existing circumstances."
* * *
Fellows undertook to call the wireless operator by telephone. When he had completed his mission, he had received Burbank's promise to come immediately.
"I am glad you are here, Fellows," said Cranston. "There is something I wish you would do for me. I am anxious to learn what has become of a friend of mine — an Englishman whom I met last year at Palm Beach. His name is Hubert Weston. He was an officer in the British army during the war — a major, I believe. I have intended to write Weston, but have lost his address. You have many unusual connections in New York. Perhaps you could find out something about him."
"I might be able to do that," said Fellows thoughtfully. "Do you merely want his address?"
"It would be better if I could obtain additional information — other facts — a picture of him would be excellent. I want to be quite sure that I am writing to the right man — not to some one of the same name."
"I'll do what I can," promised the insurance broker. "Perhaps I can learn something about Weston through the British consulate. You will hear from me as soon as possible."
The matter had been discussed in an indifferent manner; there seemed no further topic of conversation.
Fellows went back to New York. Doctor Wells also left after deciding that his patient could sit up in a chair by the window.
"Wonderful improvement," he had said. "Your visit to your wireless room seems to have done you good. Don't overdo yourself. I may have you completely well within a week."