/0/2785/coverbig.jpg?v=b953b5890a24661f6f8f03220ac859ac)
It was Sunday afternoon, and we were in conclave in the Schuyler library. Fleming Stone was summing up his results of the past few days and, though it was evident he had done all that mortal man could do, yet he had no hint or clue as to where Vicky Van might be.
And, he held, that nothing else was of consequence compared to this knowledge. She