husband is there I will find him." He returned the photographs.

"Hadn't you better keep one?" she asked.

"I won't forget him," said the reporter. "Besides"--he turned his eyes
toward the doctor and, as though thinking aloud, said--"he may have
grown a beard."

There was a pause.

The eyes of the woman grew troubled. Her lips pressed together as though
in a sudden access of pain.

"And he may," Ford continued, "have changed his name."

As though fearful, if she spoke, the tears would fall, the girl nodded
her head stiffly.

Having learned what he wanted to know Ford applied to the wound a
soothing ointment of promises and encouragement.

"He's as good as found," he protested. "You will see him in a day, two
days after you land."

The girl's eyes opened happily. She clasped her hands together and
raised them.

"You will try?" she begged. "You will find him for me"--she corrected
herself eagerly--"for me and the baby?"