CHAPTER XIX. BAD NEWS CONFIRMED.
Nattie took the telegram with a sinking heart. He had already read disquieting news in Mori's face, and for a moment he fumbled at the paper as if almost afraid to open it. Finally mustering up courage, he scanned the following words:
"Message received. Grant cannot be found. He left office at usual time last night, but did not appear at his home. Have done nothing in the matter yet. Wire instructions. Sorry to hear of accident."
It was signed by the chief bookkeeper, a Scotchman, named Burr. He was a typical representative of his race, canny, hard-headed, and thoroughly reliable. Sentiment had no place in his nature, but he was as impregnable in honesty as the crags of his own country.
Poor Nattie read the telegram a second, then a third time. The words seemed burned into his brain. There could be only one meaning: Grant Manning had met with disaster. But where, and how? And through whom? The last question was easily answered.
"Mori," he said, with a trembling voice, "this is the work of the Blacks and that scoundrel, Willis Round."
"Something may have happened, but we are not yet certain," gravely replied the Japanese youth. "Surely Grant could take a day off without our thinking the worse."
"You do not know my brother," answered the lad, steadfastly. "He hasn't a bad habit in the world, and the sun is not more regular than he. No, something has happened, and we must leave for Yokohama by the first train."