adjoining building. Holmes led the way, moving with an intensity that surprised me.
"We have no time to lose, Watson. If the young man has indeed fled the scene it is important that we find him and convince him to return for his own good."
"Do you believe him to be guilty, Holmes?"
"It is much too soon to form an opinion."
When we located Leacock's tiny office, it was occupied by a slender young man who introduced himself as Rob Gentry. He'd been studying a map on the professor's desk and he told us, "Professor Leacock is out right now, but he should be returning shortly. There's an election coming up, you know. Please take a seat, gentlemen."
"Is he active in politics?" Holmes asked.
"Very much so, on the Conservative side. He's campaigning against our Liberal prime minister."
Almost at once a handsome broad-shouldered man with a thick moustache appeared in the doorway. "What's this? Visitors? We will need an additional chair, Rob."
"Yes sir."
"I am Professor Leacock," he said, extending his hand. I guessed him to be in his early forties, with just a hint of gray in his hair. "What can I do for you?"
"We have traveled here from London. This is my companion, Dr. Watson, and I am Mr. Holmes."
"Holmes? Holmes?" Leacock seemed astounded. "Surely not the great Mr. Sherlock Holmes!"
"The same," I replied, speaking for Holmes.
"I have published some humorous pieces about your great detective work, Mr. Holmes. At least I trust you will find them humorous."
Holmes ignored his words. "We have come on an urgent matter, Professor Leacock. Irene Norton has asked my help in finding her son, Ralph, who is suspected of murder."
Leacock seemed to pale at his words. "A terrible tragedy," he murmured.
"His mother says you were a friend of his."
"I still am. This entire business is beyond my comprehension." He shifted some papers on his desk.
"If you know his whereabouts, it would be best for the lad if we found him before the police."
"I know nothing," he insisted.
"Perhaps, but your assistant was studying a map on your desk when we entered, and now you have covered it up."
Leacock was silent for a moment, perhaps weighing his choices. Finally he said, "You are quite the detective, Mr. Holmes. Yes, I know where the boy is."
2. The Chase
Professor Leacock explained that he did his writing during summer vacations at a family cottage north of Lake Simcoe in the town of Orillia. It was some distance away from Montreal, actually north of Toronto. "It's on Old Brewery Bay on Lake Couchiching, but that's really an extension of Lake Simcoe."
"How do you get there?" Holmes asked.
"By train. The Canadian National Railway runs a line from Toronto through Orillia. It passes quite close to my cottage. I came back here with my family in early August as I always do, to prepare for the new term. It was just a few days before Franz Faber was killed."
"Did you know Faber?"
"Not personally. Rob here knew him."
Gentry nodded. "I used to see him in the pub on weekends. If he was between girlfriends we might have a few beers together."
Holmes looked thoughtful. "Did you see him the night he was stabbed?"
He shook his head. "I was at a picnic with some friends."
Holmes turned back to Leacock. "You said you know where young Norton is."
"He came to see me just after I returned to Montreal with my family. He wanted to get away for a few weeks, until the new term began. He wondered if I might know a place where he could go."
"And you suggested your cottage in Orillia?"
"I did."
"When was this?"
He consulted his desk calendar. "It would have been Wednesday, the ninth."
"Was he accompanied by the missing young woman, Monica Starr?"
"So far as I knew he went alone."
"And is still there now?"
"I believe so, yes. He planned to return the second week in September."
"Do you have a telephone at the cottage?"
"No. I like to spend the summers there with my wife and son, without needless interruptions."
"Then tell me how to get there by train."
"It is a full day's journey from here, well over three hundred miles."
"Watson and I are used to riding trains in England."
Leacock smiled. "I am British myself, you know. My parents migrated to Canada when I was seven and I decided to go with them."
"A wise decision," Holmes said with a smile. "Now about your cottage—"
"I don't know what is happening with Ralph, but I seem to be responsible in part, since I allowed him to use my place. If you