"And after that?"
"I am not altogether sure. But there is one thing I should do before undertaking anything else. In fact, I am almost pledged to it. Harmon will never forgive me if I don't."
"Harmon, did you say?" Weston questioned. "I once knew a man by that name."
"It is Harmon, editor and principal owner of the Vancouver Telegram and Evening News. He has been a father to me, and is greatly interested in my welfare. He has a hobby which I call 'a wild-goose scheme,' and he thinks that I am the only one who can carry it out. He is not the Harmon you knew, I suppose?"
Weston did not at once reply, but sat staring straight before him as if he saw something strange in the wall. His bronzed face had a peculiar pallid color, and his eyes expressed wonder and incredulity. He was forced to keep his hands clasped before him, so great was his emotion. Reynolds watched him curiously, but said nothing.
"And what is Harmon's hobby?" Weston at length found voice to enquire.
"Oh, a pet scheme for the finding of a man who disappeared years ago."
"And the man's name?" Weston was once more calm.
"Henry Redmond, so he told me. He was a prominent business man, but after the death of his wife he mysteriously vanished, and left no trace of his whereabouts."
"Strange, was it not?" Weston queried, as he furtively eyed the young man. "Perhaps he is dead."