text: Grit was sitting in his office in mid-December reading the Nebraska State Journal, something he'd taken to doing every day for just a few minutes. Asa walked in and said, "There's a woman here to see you."
  
  "What does she want?"
  
  "Don't know. She says it's personal."
  
  Grit laughed. "I got almost no personal business, but go ahead and send her back."
  
  Grit stood and a blonde woman came to the office door. "Have a seat, Miss," Grit said.
  
  "I assume you're Grit Milburn," she said.
  
  "That's me," Grit said.
  
  "I'm Sarah Sloan with the Pinkerton Detective Agency."
  
  "Okay, what can I do for you?"
  
  "You have a deep voice," she said, trying to establish some sort of rapport with this giant of a man who had more muscles than any man she'd ever seen.
  
  Grit laughed. "Just the luck of the draw. What can I do for you?"
  
  "I've been looking for you for more than three months," she said. "You've made yourself hard to find."
  
  "Look, Miss," Grit said. "I have no idea what you want, so you better tell me before I head off to work."
  
  "Pinkerton was hired by your father to find you," Sloan said.
  
  Grit laughed. "You got the wrong man. I have no idea who my father is, and neither does anybody else."
  
  "Well, is your full name Landgrave Theodosius Gridleigh Milburn?"
  
  Grit was shaken, but his face was a mask of serenity. "Never heard of the guy," Grit said.
  
  Sarah gave him a brilliant smile before saying, "I know you're lying, Mister Milburn. I've tracked you all over the country, and I know... know... I'm not mistaken. I'm a very good detective."
  
  Grit looked out the window into the lumber yard. "Look, Miss Sloan. I've got a nice life here. I've built it with hard labor, and I've been lucky. I've got a beautiful wife, a little girl at home, and we've got a baby on the way. I don't wanna do anything to upset that."
  
  Sarah sighed, "Doesn't have to upset your life. Your father wants you to make a trip to Chicago. He'll pay for everything. He'll even pay you to come. Just name your price, but he's not well, and he wants to meet you before he dies. That's not a lot to ask. He found out that he was your father only a few months ago. A Catholic priest told him about finding you in the sanctuary of the church when you were two with your name pinned to your coat."
  
  "Father Walsh."
  
  "That's right."
  
  "Who is the man who thinks he's my father?"
  
  Sarah smiled sadly, "You know his name quite well. He's Landgrave Theodosius Gridleigh."
  
  Grit looked out the window once more and said, "You have no idea how much I hated that name. I even refused to tell my wife my real name."
  
  "I'm sure it was quite a weight for a little boy," Sarah said.
  
  "You'll never know, but listen, I'd only make the trip if my wife came along," Grit said, "and she's enrolled at the university. She can't miss her classes."
  
  "It's only a two-day trip or at most three days," Sloan said. "You could leave in the morning and be there that evening, see him and come back the next day. If you don't do this, Mister Milburn, you'll always wonder."
  
  Grit blew out a long breath before saying, "I guess you're right. Do you know where my mother is?"
  
  "I don't know where Lila Milburn is," Sloan said. "We've not been asked to find her, but if you ask your father, I'm sure he'd hire us to find her."
  
  "You report back and tell him that I'll come on one condition," Grit said, "and that's that he hires you to find my mother or find out what happened to her. When you locate her, I'll want him to pay for me to see her."
  
  "I don't have to tell him that," Sarah said. "He'll do it. He'll do anything in the world to see you."
  
  When he told Colleen, she said, "I can't miss my classes for that long, but you have to go, Grit, and put aside any resentments you've had. You'll need a suit and you'd look so much better if you shaved your facial hair."
  
  "My mustache too?"
  
  Colleen nodded.
  
  "But you've always said you liked it."
  
  "I do, but I'm sure your father would love to see your face."
  
  "Alright, I'll get ready and leave day after tomorrow. I'll try to be back in two or three days. If there's any delay, I'll send you a telegram."