The only bit of information suggesting a possible clew comes from Walter Hanlon, a trainman who told the authorities yesterday that on an afternoon about a week ago his attention was drawn to a child accompanied by two men leaving his train at Catskill Landing.  Hanlon’s train was northbound.  He reported what he had seen as soon as the public alarm was given.

Hanlon said that he noticed the child, a boy, as he helped the little fellow down the car steps, because of an open jack-knife which the youngster carried, and which he good-naturedly advised him to close before he stumbled with it.  To the best of Hanlon’s recollection the little fellow wore a mackinaw jacket, but he did not notice this in particular.  It is known that the child wore a sweater when he disappeared.

Hanlon paid no attention to the child’s companions and his recollection of their appearance is hazy.  He says that the three disappeared in the crowd and he thought they joined the throng which was waiting for the northbound boat of the Hudson River Day Line.  If such was the case, the authorities believe that the party left the train and continued northward by boat in hopes of baffling the authorities.

One circumstance which lends considerable color to Hanlon’s statement is the positive assurance of the child’s parents that their son had no jack-knife of any description.  This, therefore, may mean that the child was not the Harrington child at all, or on the other hand, it may mean, what seams likely, that the men gave the little fellow a jack-knife as a bribe to accompany them.  Hanlon thinks that the knife was new, and is sure that the child was very proud of it.

So much of this sensational article was in conspicuous type.  The rest, in regulation type, pertained to the unsuccessful search for the child by private means.  A couple of ponds had been dragged, the numerous acres of the fine estate had been searched inch by inch, barns and haystacks and garages and smokehouses had been ransacked, an old disused well had been explored, the neighboring woodland had been covered, but little Anthony Harrington, Jr., had disappeared as completely as if he had gone up in the clouds.

“You fellows had better be getting ready for supper,” said Tom Slade, as he passed.

“Look here, Tomasso,” said Roy.

Tom paused, half interested, and read the article without comment.

“Some excitement, hey?” said Roy.

“It’s a wonder they didn’t mention the color of the sweater while they were about it,” Tom said.

“The kid had on a mackinaw jacket,” Roy shot back.

“How do we know what was under the mackinaw jacket?” Tom said.  “Come on, you fellows, and get washed up for grub.”

“Mm-mmm,” said Pee-wee Harris.

CHAPTER XXV

THE PATH OF GLORY