“It gives us the subsequent history of the wife and practically the whereabouts of the child at that time. Good!”
“I can’t see why it is necessary for me to come. It’s devilish hot,” said the other, mopping his brow complainingly.
“My good fellow, you are lent to me by our consul. I believe you can assist me in the work of finding the child. It—she—is here—in Sendai, it seems—or she was. Let’s see what the other missionary writes.”
He unfolded the letter and read:
“American Consul, Tokyo:
“I take the liberty of addressing this letter to the various English, American, and German consuls in Japan. I wish to advise you that there is a white child in Sendai, the adopted daughter of a Japanese woman, concerning whose parentage there appears to be some mystery. The child has been brought up entirely as a Japanese girl, and does not know as yet of her true nationality. She is soon to be married to a Japanese youth, a Buddhist by religion. As she is a minor, and I consider this an outrage, I am of the opinion that steps should be taken to ascertain the parentage of this young white girl.
“I am, with respect,
“(Rev.) James Blount.”
“Whew!” said the younger man. “We must be hot on the girl’s trail. It would be a coincidence, wouldn’t it, though, if she proved to be the same.”
“The former missionary also wrote from Sendai,” said the lawyer. “There is not the smallest doubt in my mind that the child is the same.”