In the Land of the Long White Cloud

recent birth of his grandchild? George wanted to know. Westport was the third settlement he’d visited to ask about Lucas. Only whom should he ask? The stable owner? That would be a start.
    Miller, the rental stables’ proprietor, shook his head.
    “A young gentleman with an old gelding? Not that I know of. We don’t get that many gentlemen around here.” He laughed. “It could be that I just didn’t hear anything about it. Up until recently I had a stable boy, but he…well, it’s a long story. At any rate, he was very reliable and often looked after the people who were only passing through. Best thing would be to ask in the pub. Nothing escapes little Daphne, guaranteed…at least nothing that has to do with men.”
    George laughed politely at the obvious joke, though he did not quite understand it, and thanked him for the tip. He wanted to go to the pub anyway. After all, they might rent rooms there. Besides, he was hungry.

    The taproom was a pleasant surprise, just as the rental stables had been. This place too boasted relative order and cleanliness. Still, there seemed to be little separating the pub from the brothel. The young red-haired girl who asked George for his order was heavily made up and wore a bar wench’s eye-catching clothing.
    “A beer, something to eat, and a room if there are any here,” George said. “And I’m looking for a girl named Daphne.”
    The redhead smiled. “I’ll get you the beer and sandwich right away, but we only rent rooms by the hour. If you want to book me too and aren’t stingy, I can let you stay here too. Who recommended me so warmly that you asked for me as soon as you popped in?”
    George returned her laugh. “So you’re Daphne. I hate to disappoint. You weren’t recommended to me particularly for your discretion, butrather because you’re supposed to know everyone around here. Does the name Lucas Warden ring a bell?”
    Daphne wrinkled her brow. “Off the top of my head, no. But it does sound vaguely familiar…I’ll fetch your food and think about it.”
    George had pulled a few coins from his pocket, which he hoped would increase Daphne’s willingness to provide information. That, however, did not seem necessary; the girl did not appear to be playing coy. On the contrary, she was beaming when she emerged from the kitchen.
    “There was a Warden on the ship I came from England on!” she explained excitedly. “I just knew I’d heard the name somewhere. But the man wasn’t called Lucas, but Harold or something like that. And he was a bit older. Why would you want to know that?”
    George was blown away. He had not counted on hearing something like that. Very well, Daphne and her family had apparently sailed to Christchurch on the
Dublin
, like Helen and Gwyneira had done. A strange coincidence, but it did not help him.
    “Lucas Warden is Gerald’s son,” George replied. “A tall, thin man, light blond hair, gray eyes, very proper deportment. And there’s reason to believe that he’s on the move somewhere on the West Coast.”
    Daphne’s open expression turned suspicious. “And you followed him here? What are you, the police?”
    George shook his head.
    “A friend,” he explained. “A friend with very good news. I’m convinced Mr. Warden would be overjoyed to see me. In case you do know something…”
    Daphne shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter,” she muttered. “But if you really want to know, there was a man here named Luke—I never got his last name—but the description fits. Not that it matters now, like I said. Luke is dead. But if you want, you can talk to David…if he’ll talk to you. Up until now he’s hardly spoken to anyone. He’s pretty far gone.”
    George gave a start—and knew in the same moment that the girl had to be right. There were not going to be many men like Lucas Warden on the West Coast, and this girl was a keen observer. Georgegot up. The sandwich Daphne had brought him looked good, but he had lost his appetite.
    “Where can I find this David?” he asked. “If Lucas…if he really is dead, I want to know. Right away.”
    Daphne nodded. “I’m sorry, sir, if it really is your Lucas. He was a nice fellow. A little strange, but all right. Come along, I’ll take you to David.”
    To George’s astonishment, she did not lead him out of the bar but up the steps. The hourly hotel rooms had to be up here.
    “I didn’t think you rented by more than the hour,” he said as the girl purposefully crossed a