"What?" Eldredge stared at the list in astonishment. He looked up at Trant's direct, intelligent features and checked himself. "Is there not some mistake in that last word, Mr. Trant? 'Pioseer' is not a word at all."
"I don't wish it to be," Trant replied. His glance fell suddenly on a gaudily lithographed card—an advertisement showing the interior of a room. He took it from the desk.
"This will be very helpful, Mr. Eldredge," he said. "If you will have this brought with the other cards I think that will be all. At three o'clock, then, at your house?"
He left them, looking at each other in perplexity. He stopped a moment at a newspaper office, and then returned to the University Club thoughtfully. By the authority of all precedent procedure of the world, he recognized how hopelessly the case stood against the stepmother of the missing child. But by the authority of the new science—the new knowledge of humanity—which he was laboring to establish, he felt certain he could save her.
Yet he fully appreciated that he could accomplish nothing until his experimental instruments were delivered. He must be content to wait until he could test his belief in Mrs. Eldredge's innocence for himself, and at the same time convince Eldredge conclusively. So he played billiards, and lunched, and was waiting for the hour he had set with Eldredge, when he was summoned to the telephone. A man who said he was Mrs. Eldredge's chauffeur, informed him that
