duration. Perhaps my good housekeeper imagined that I planned a
return to the Great Eyrie, which she regarded as an ante-chamber of
hell itself. She said nothing, but went about her work with a most
despairing face. Nevertheless, sure as I was of her discretion, I
told her nothing. In this great mission I would confide in no one.

My choice of the two men to accompany me was easily made. They both
belonged to my own department, and had many times under my direct
command given proofs of their vigor, courage and intelligence. One,
John Hart, of Illinois, was a man of thirty years; the other, aged
thirty-two, was Nab Walker, of Massachusetts. I could not have had
better assistants.

Several days passed, without news, either of the automobile, the
boat, or the submarine. There were rumors in plenty; but the police
knew them to be false. As to the reckless stories that appeared in
the newspapers, they had most of them, no foundation whatever. Even
the best journals cannot be trusted to refuse an exciting bit of news
on the mere ground of its unreliability.

Then, twice in quick succession, there came what seemed trustworthy
reports of the "man of the hour." The first asserted that he had been
seen on the roads of Arkansas, near Little Rock. The second, that he
was in the very middle of Lake Superior.

Unfortunately, these two notices were absolutely unreconcilable; for
while the first gave the afternoon of June twenty-sixth, as the time
of appearance, the second set it for the evening of the same day.
Now, these two points of the United States territory are not less
than eight hundred miles apart. Even granting the automobile this