“Have you no hope of ever again seeing your son?”
“Only a slight one. I have thought of a plan in which I need your help.”
“If I can help you, sir,” said Robert heartily, “I will do so gladly.”
“I do not doubt it, Robert,” said the hermit kindly. “I will explain my meaning. If Charles Waldo knows anything of my lost boy, he must, from time to time, hold communication with him, and if he is watched he may some day reveal his hiding place.”
“Why do you not go out to where he lives and watch him?”
“It would do no good. It would only put him on his guard. I intend this office for you.”
“For me?” exclaimed Robert in amazement.
“Yes, you are young, but you have natural ability, and shrewdness. At any rate, you are the only one I have to send. It is a desperate chance, but I shall feel better satisfied when I have tried it.”
“I will follow your instructions whenever you wish,” said Robert, his heart beating at the prospect of seeing something of that world of which he had seen so little and heard so much.
“My instructions will be few. I must trust much to your shrewdness. You will need to visit the town where my cousin lives to observe his habits and any unusual visitors he may have—in fact, try to arrive at the knowledge of the secret, if there is one, connected with my boy’s disappearance.”