by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XVIII D.X.123
"There it is. Or is it?" Rodney Angel turned enquiring eyes upon JuneTravis. They had traveled by the third-rail line twenty miles into thecountry. There before them stood a large stone building topped by acircular tower. Rodney held his breath. If the girl said "No," all thiswork had gone for nothing.
June half closed her eyes. A dreamy expression overspread her face. Onceagain she was thinking back, back, back, into the dim, misty realm of herchildhood.
"Yes," she said quite simply, "yes, that is the tower. I have seen itbefore. That must have been when I was very young."
"Then--" the word was said with a shout of joy. "Then right over there isthe brick house you once lived in with your father."
"Our house!" Who can describe the emotions that throbbed through June'sbeing as she looked upon the home of her earliest childhood?
She was not given long to dream. "Come on," said Rodney. "There is alittle cottage next door to it. Looks as if it were half a century oldand been owned by the same person all the time. That person should beable to help us."
"That person" turned out to be a little old dried up man with a hookednose.
"Do I know who lived in the red brick house ten years ago?" He grinned atRodney. "Yes, and forty years ago. There was Joe Green and Sam Hicks,and--"
"But _ten_ years ago!" Rodney insisted.
"Oh, yes. Now let me think. It was a--oh, yes! That was John Travis."
"J--John Travis!" June stammered, fairly overcome with joy. "Oh, Rodney,you surely are a wonder!
"Please!" There were tears in her eyes as she turned to the old man."Please tell me all about him! He--he is my father."
"Your father? Yes, so he might be. There was a small child and a woman, alittle old woman that wasn't his wife nor his mother--
"But I can't tell you much, miss," he went on, "not a whole lot. Hedidn't live here long. Wanderin' sort, he was. A gold prospector, he was.Made a heap of money at it. Short, jolly sort of man, he was, short andjolly."
"See?" Rodney reminded her, "Your memory was O. K."
"Short and jolly--" June murmured, "I can't understand. In the crystalball--"
The little old man was talking again. "He seemed to like me, this JohnTravis. When he went away in an airplane, he--"
"Airplane!" June breathed.
"Why, yes, child! Didn't you know? He went in an airplane. He invited meto the airport. I saw him off. Just such a day as this one, fine andclear, few white clouds afloatin'. I can see that plane sailin' away.Recollect the number of it even. It was D.X.123.
"And they say," he added slowly, "that he never came back!"
"Wh--where was he going?" June's voice was husky.
"That's what I don't know. He never told me that." The old man lookedaway at the sky as if he would call that airplane back.
"And that," he added after a time, "is just about all I can tell you."
That too was all they found out from anyone that day. The other peopleliving close to the red brick house were recent arrivals. They knewnothing of John Travis.
When June, weary and sleepy from travel and excitement, arrived at herhome, she found a telephone number in her letter box.
"Florence wants me to call," she thought. "Wonder if she's found outsomething important. I'll have a cup of tea to get my nerves right. ThenI'll give her a ring."
