THE MISSING GUEST
Next morning Captain Kelson took his guest for a long drive round the neighbourhood. Before starting he asked the landlord at what time Henshaw had returned.
"He didn't come in at all, captain," Dipper answered in an aggrieved tone. "His fire was kept up all night for nothing."
"I suppose he has been here this morning," Kelson observed casually.
"No," was the prompt reply. "Nothing has been seen or heard of him here since he left last night for the ball."
Kelson whistled. "That looks rather queer, doesn't it, Hugh?"
Gifford nodded. "Very, I should say. What do you make of it?" he asked the landlord.
That worthy spread out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "It's beyond me, gentlemen. We can none of us make it out. I've never known anything quite like it happen all the years I've been in the business."
"Oh, you'll have an explanation in the course of the morning all right," said Kelson with a smile at the host's worry. "Don't take it too seriously; it isn't worth it. You've got Mr. Henshaw's luggage, which indemnifies you, and he is manifestly a person quite capable of taking care of himself."
Mr. Dipper gave a doubtful jerk of the head. "It is very mysterious all the same."