heard no more.



CHAPTER III


One morning in early October, nearly two years after I left
Liverpool that memorable night, I found myself in the little
city of Ogdensburg, N. Y., past which the majestic St.
Lawrence flows with a sleepy movement quite in harmony with
the spirit of the old town on its southern shore. All this
time I had been vainly beating about the Western Hemisphere
in quest of my uncle. He had left Detroit many years before,
but I chanced to meet a number of men there who had known
him well. Although he had enjoyed a very large practice and
a wide reputation for skill, he had made no friends that I
could find. He was a man of few words, they told me, and was
never seen about the city except in the discharge of his
professional duties. Various and conflicting opinions were
expressed as to whither he had gone, in testing which I had
visited no less than twenty cities, making careful
inquiries, especially among medical men. Occasionally I
struck what seemed to be a promising clew, which only
increased my confusion and left me more hopelessly in the
dark. I had reported my movements to Mr. Earl as often as
once a week and I received letters from him frequently,
encouraging me to continue the search and enclosing money
with which to do so. But although I had written often to
Hester Chaffin no word from her ever reached me. I was tired