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"They took the bloodhounds to the cave, Uncle Albert, and Mr.
Brendon himself watched them working, but nothing came of it. The
creatures leaped up the channel from the cave and were soon upon the
plateau where the long tunnel opens into the air; but there they
seemed to lose their bearings and there was no scent that attracted
them, either up to the summit of the cliffs, or down to the rocky
beach underneath. They ran about and bayed and presently returned
again down the tunnel to the cave. Mr. Brendon has no belief in the
value of bloodhounds for a case like this."
"Nothing further of--of--Robert?"
"Not a trace or sign of him. I'm sure that everything that the wit
of man can do has been done; and many clever local people, including
the County Commissioner and the highest authorities, have helped Mr.
Brendon; but not a glimpse of poor Uncle Robert has been seen and
there is nothing to show what happened to him after that terrible
night."
"Or to brother Bendigo, either, for that matter," murmured Mr.


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