"Sit down, will you ?" Francis sat down and ordered his lunch.
"By-the-bye," he said, "I had rather a mysterious visit this morning from your brother Reggie." Wilmore stared at him for a moment, half in relief, half in amazement.
"Good God, Francis, you don't say so!" he exclaimed.

"How was he?
What did he want?
Tell me about it at once?
We've been worried to death about the boy." "Well, as a matter of fact, I didn't see him," Francis explained.
"He arrived before I reached my rooms--as you know, I don't live there--waited some time, began to write me this note,"-- drawing the sheet of paper from his pocket--"and when I got there had disappeared without leaving a message or anything." Wilmore adjusted his pince nez with trembling fingers.

Then he read the few lines through.
"Francis," he said, when he had finished them, "do you know that this is the first word we've heard of him for three days ?" "Great heavens!" Francis exclaimed.

"He was living with his mother, wasn't he ?" "Down at Kensington, but he hasn't been there since Monday," Andrew replied.

"His mother is in a terrible state.