‘Nothing—only it’s so funny. Why don’t you advertise for him? Lost—a young man, age twenty-eight, height five feet eleven, weight one hundred and seventy pounds, dark hair, grey eyes, slight scar over left eyebrow; dressed when last seen in double-breasted blue serge suit and brown russet shoes. Finder please return to Hotel du Lac and receive liberal reward.’
‘He isn’t lost,’ said Nannie. ‘We know where he is perfectly; he’s at the Hotel Sole d’Oro in Riva, and that’s at the other end of the lake. We’re going up on the afternoon boat to join him.’
‘Oh!’ said Constance meekly.
‘You take my advice,’ Mr. Wilder put in. ‘Go up to Riva if you must—it’s a pleasant trip—but leave your luggage here. See this young man in person and bring him back with you; tell him we have just as good mountains as he’ll find in the Dolomites. If by any chance you shouldn’t find him——’
‘Of course, we’ll find him!’ said Nannie.
Constance looked troubled.
‘Don’t go, it’s quite a long trip. Write instead and give the letter to Gustavo; he’ll give it to the boat steward who will deliver it personally. Then if Jerry shouldn’t be there——’
Nannie was losing her patience.
‘Shouldn’t be there? But he says he’s there.’
‘Oh! yes, certainly, that ends it. Only, you know, Nannie, I don’t believe there really is any such person as Jerry Junior! I think he’s a myth.’