“Of course. I came to tell you, and then to ask your help or advice. You know all these river men?”
“Almost all, even the lumber-gangs.”
“I thought so. I shall be brief. Last year we buried my youngest child here. I had set up at the head of the grave a simple white stone. To-day I went up with Mrs. Lyndsay to see that it was all in order. To our horror the stone was gone. Of course my wife was painfully disturbed. The grave was trampled; the wild rose-bushes we had set around in a little thicket were beaten down. That is the whole story. I am, as you may fancy, greatly annoyed. I felt that, with your knowledge of the men hereabouts, you might possibly give me some clue. I owe you every apology,” and he turned to Ellett, “for thrusting so personal a calamity into the hours of a holiday, but—”
“You could not have found two people more willing.”
“Thank you.”
“Let me ask you a few questions,” said Carington.
“Of course.”
The young man reflected a moment, and then in quick succession put his queries.
“Have you gone over the place?”
“Yes,” and he told the little he had seen.