CHAPTER XIV 

DEFEAT 

A good fire burned on the hearth in the library at Sandymere, although the mild air of an early spring morning floated in through the open window. Challoner sat in a big leather chair, watching the flames and thinking of his nephew, when a servant entered and handed him a card. 

Challoner glanced at it. 

"Clarke? I don't know any one of that name--" 

He stopped abruptly as he saw the word _Sweetwater_ in small type at the bottom of the card. He knew that that was the name of the prairie town from which Blake had started on his quest into the wilderness. 

"All right, Perkins," he said, rather eagerly; and a few minutes afterward Clarke entered the room, with an irritating air of assurance. 

"Colonel Challoner, I presume?" 

Challoner bowed. 

"You have brought me some news of my nephew, Richard Blake?" 

This disconcerted Clarke. He had not imagined that his object would be known, and he had counted upon Challoner's being surprised and thrown off his guard. It looked as if the Colonel had been making inquiries about Blake. Clarke wished that he could guess his reason, for it might affect the situation. 

"That is correct," he said. "I have a good deal to tell you, and it may take some time." 

Challoner motioned to him to be seated, and offered him a cigar; and Clarke lighted it before he spoke. 

"Your nephew," he began, "spent a week in the settlement where I live, preparing for a journey to the North. Though his object was secret, I believe he went in search of something to make varnish of, because he took with him a young American traveler for a paint factory, besides another man." 
Who?
a servant 