"Did you see the boy in the picture, Miss Hendricks?"
"Why—yes, of course, Mr. Trant," the woman answered, after a little hesitation.
"Good. Did you also see his book?"
"Yes; I saw that he was reading."
"Can you describe him?"
"Yes; he was about fifteen years old, in a dark suit with a brown tie, black-haired, slender, and he sat in a corner with a book on his knee."
"That was indeed most satisfactory! Thank you, Miss Hendricks." Trant congratulated and dismissed her. "Now your wife, if you please, Mr. Eldredge."
Eldredge was curiously turning over the cards which Trant had been exhibiting, and stared at the young psychologist in bewilderment. But at Trant's words he went for his wife. She came down at once with Mrs. Murray. Though she had been described to him, it was the first time Trant had seen the grandmother of the missing boy; and, as she entered, a movement of admiration escaped him. She was taller even than her son—who was the tallest man in the room—and she had retained surprisingly much of the grace and beauty of youth. She was a majestic and commanding figure. After settling her charge in a chair, she turned solicitously to Trant.
"Mr. Eldredge tells me that you consider it necessary to question poor Isabel again," she said. "But, Mr. Trant, you must be careful not to subject her to any greater strain than is necessary. We all have told her that if she would be entirely frank with us we would make allowance for one whose girlhood has
