[CHAPTER XXIII.]
THE TRAIL.
Herc decided to begin his investigation into Ned's mysterious disappearance by making a canvass of the hotels on Civic Island. There were not so very many of them, and by chance the third or fourth that he struck was the one in which Ned had put up.
But he could not glean much information there. They informed him of the hour that Ned had left the place, and further questioning elicited the fact that, as we know, Ned had engaged a hack to convey him part way to his destination.
Armed with this information, Herc, feeling not at all eased in his mind, started out to find the hackman. He had a long search for the man, but at last he discovered him in the person of a bulbous-nosed, bibulous-looking old specimen of the genus hack-driver.
Yes, the man recollected Ned. Knew the very place he had dropped him. Would he drive Herc out there? Certainly. Ned jumped into the rickety old conveyance owned by the bulbous-nosed man, who rejoiced in the name of Chuck Chiggins.
Chuck's bony old nag, in due time, landed the cab at the place where Ned had left it. Herc could see the Neck stretching out tenuously across the shining water. Telling Chuck to wait, he walked about for an hour or more trying rather vaguely to locate at least some clew to Ned's whereabouts. Needless almost is it to say, that he did not succeed in his purpose. In fact it was more for the sake of doing something to work off his anxiety that Herc made the idle search at all.
"The Neck appears ter be gittin' a pop'lar place lately," volunteered Chuck, when Herc returned.
"How's that?" asked Herc disinterestedly, as he resumed his place and told Chuck to drive back to the island.