"There's no use putting it off. Edith, I saw some one to-day."
"You should have seen thousands," she said lightly.
"I did. But of them all, only one will be of interest to you."
"Man or woman?"
"Man."
"Where?"
"Lake Shore private hospital."
"An accident?"
"No. Nervous and physical breakdown."
"Phil said he was going back to the Limberlost."
"He went. He was there three weeks, but the strain broke him. He has an old letter in his hands that he has handled until it is ragged. He held it up to me and said, 'You can see for yourself that she says she will be well and happy, but we can't know until we see her again, and that may never be. She may have gone too near that place her father went down, some of that Limberlost gang may have found her in the forest, she may lie dead in some city morgue this instant, waiting for me to find her body.'"
"Hart! For pity sake stop!"
"I can't," cried Henderson desperately. "I am forced to tell you. They are fighting brain fever. He did go back to the swamp and he prowled it night and day. The days down there are hot now, and the nights wet with dew and cold. He paid no attention and forgot his food. A fever started and his uncle brought him home. They've never had a word from her, or found a trace of her. Mrs.
