after June twelfth, he said, so it was before June twelfth he wrote it; but we can't tell how long before. It might have been in February, when he disappeared; it might have been any time after that. But if the directions were written so long ago, why weren't the things sent to you before this? Didn't the person have the things then? Did we have to wait to get them? Or—was it the instructions to send them that he didn't have? Or, if he had the instructions, was he waiting to receive word when they were to be sent?"
"To receive word?" she echoed.
"Word from my father! You thought these things proved my father was dead. I think they prove he is alive! Oh, we must think this out!"
He paced up and down the room; she sank into a chair, watching him. "The first thing that we must do," he said suddenly, "is to find out about the watch. What is the 'phone number of the telegraph office?"
She told him, and he went out to the telephone; she sprang up to follow him, but checked herself and merely waited until he came back.
"I've wired to Buffalo," he announced. "The Merchants' Exchange, if it is still in existence, must have a record of the presentation of the watch. At any rate, the wreck of the Winnebago and the name of the skipper of the other boat must be in the files of the newspapers of that time."
"Then you'll stay here with us until an answer comes."
"If we get a reply by to-morrow morning; I'll wait till then. If not, I'll ask you to forward it to me. I must see about the trains and get back to Frankfort. I can cross by boat from there to Manitowoc—that
