“Harmon, did you say?” Weston questioned.  “I once knew a man by that name.”

“It is Harmon, editor and principal owner of the Vancouver Telegram and Evening News.  He has been a father to me, and is greatly interested in my welfare.  He has a hobby which I call ’a wild-goose scheme,’ and he thinks that I am the only one who can carry it out.  He is not the Harmon you knew, I suppose?”

Weston did not at once reply, but sat staring straight before him as if he saw something strange in the wall.  His bronzed face had a peculiar pallid color, and his eyes expressed wonder and incredulity.  He was forced to keep his hands clasped before him, so great was his emotion.  Reynolds watched him curiously, but said nothing.

“And what is Harmon’s hobby?” Weston at length found voice to enquire.

“Oh, a pet scheme for the finding of a man who disappeared years ago.”

“And the man’s name?” Weston was once more calm.

“Henry Redmond, so he told me.  He was a prominent business man, but after the death of his wife he mysteriously vanished, and left no trace of his whereabouts.”

“Strange, was it not?” Weston queried, as he furtively eyed the young man.  “Perhaps he is dead.”

“That is what I suggested to Harmon, but he would not entertain the idea at all.”

“Did he give any reason for his belief that the man is alive?”

“He showed me a clipping taken from a paper years ago.  These are the words which I committed to memory: 

“’I go from the busy haunts of men, far from the worry and bustle of business life.  I may be found, but only he who is worthy will find me, and whoever finds me, will, I trust, not lose his reward.  From the loop-holes of retreat I shall watch the stress and fever of life, but shall not mingle in the fray.’”

“Was there any name signed to that?” Weston asked, when Reynolds had finished.

“I understand there was none.”

“Why, then, does your friend Harmon imagine that it refers to Redmond?”

“Because it appeared immediately after the man’s disappearance, and Harmon told me it was just like Redmond to do such a thing.”

“It is all mere conjecture, then?”

“It is.”

“And upon the strength of that your friend, would have you undertake the wild-goose adventure, as you term it.  What are his reasons?”

“He wishes me to find an outlet for my restless spirit; to satisfy his own curiosity; and finally, to have a series of special articles for his paper.”

“What!  Does Harmon want you to write a full account of your adventure, and all about the missing man should you find him?”

“It seems so, though I guess he will have to wait a long time.  I must first of all find Frontier Samson, and get that gold.  Then, perhaps, something else may interfere with Harmon’s plans.”

“Yes, yes, you must find the old prospector and get the gold,” Weston agreed.  “But you will need assistance.  I know the region as well as any man, and I have a comfortable cabin in the hills.  Allow me to go with you to direct your search.”