On the morning of the third day another telegram came. This read:
'Still delayed because of illness. Hold rooms.
'Trent.'
Accompanying the photograph had come a distracted letter from poor Hilda O'Neil, in which she had described Mrs. Trent, the mother of the missing young man, as almost broken down by the shock and suspense; and we readily guessed that her illness was the cause of the delay.
Twenty-four hours after receipt of this last message came another:
'Mrs. T. too ill to travel. Doctor forbids my leaving. Give up rooms. For God's sake work. Don't spare money. Letter follows.
'Trent.'
In addition to these, every day brought across the wires, from Hilda O'Neil to her friend, the pitiful little question, 'Any news?' and took back the only possible reply, 'Not yet.'
And then came this letter from the father of Gerald Trent:
'Dear Sir,' it began,