Picked up by fishing schooner We're Here having fallen off boat great times on Banks fishing all well waiting Gloucester Mass care Disko Troop for money or orders wire what shall do and how is Mama Harvey N. Cheyne.
The father let it fall, laid his head down on the roller-top of the shut desk, and breathed heavily. The secretary ran for Mrs. Cheyne's doctor who found Cheyne pacing to and fro.
"What—what d' you think of it? Is it possible? Is there any meaning to it? I can't quite make it out," he cried.
"I can," said the doctor. "I lose seven thousand a year—that's all." He thought of the struggling New York practice he had dropped at Cheyne's imperious bidding, and returned the telegram with a sigh.
"You mean you'd tell her? 'May be a fraud?"
"What's the motive?" said the doctor, coolly. "Detection's too certain. It's the boy sure enough."
Enter a French maid, impudently, as an indispensable one who is kept on only by large wages.
"Mrs. Cheyne she say you must come at once. She think you are seek."
The master of thirty millions bowed his head meekly and followed Suzanne; and a thin, high voice on the upper landing of the great white-wood square staircase cried: "What is it? What has happened?"
No doors could keep out the shriek that rang through the echoing house a moment later, when her husband blurted out the news.