“No, he was accompanied by one of his schoolmates, Arthur Grigson. He had but little money. I thought when that gave out he would come home, or at any rate communicate with me. But I have heard nothing of him,” concluded Wentworth gloomily.
“I am sorry for you, Mr. Wentworth,” said Gerald earnestly. “Have you a picture of Victor with you?”
“Yes,” and Wentworth drew from his inside pocket a cabinet photograph of a boy whose face was pleasant, but seemed to lack strength.
“I suppose you have met no such boy in your travels,” said the father.
“No, but I may do so. If so I will try to get him to go home, and at any rate I will communicate with you.”
Mr. Wentworth seemed to be somewhat softened by Gerald’s sympathy, but he was not an emotional man, and business considerations succeeded his gentler mood.
“Have you got with you the papers I spoke of when we parted?” he asked with abruptness.
“They are safe,” returned Gerald.
“Do you carry them around with you?”
“I must decline to answer that question,” answered Gerald.