CHAPTER XVII
MISSING
"I left her here ten minutes ago!" gasped Ed, trembling with excitement, as he related the news.
"She must have gone inside," replied Jack, equally alarmed. "We must look before we tell the others."
"No, give the alarm first, and look afterward," insisted Ed. "The thing that counts is to find her; people's nerves may rest afterwards. I think we had best call the hotel manager. That message sent me was a fake. It was an envelope addressed to me, and contained nothing but a blank paper. It was a game to get me away from Cora!"
"Perhaps you are right. But I do hate to alarm every one. I know that Cora would feel that way herself. What's this?" and Jack stooped to the porch floor. "Her fan!"
Ed almost snatched the trinket from Jack's hand. "The chain is broken," he said, "and she had it on when I left her. I remember how she dropped the fan to her side and it hung there."
Here was a new proof of something very wrong—the chain was broken in two places.
"Don't let us waste a moment," begged Ed, starting for the hotel office. "I will speak with the manager first."
Jack felt as if something was gripping at his heart. Cora gone! Could it be possible that anything had really happened to her? Could she have been kidnapped? No, she must be somewhere with some of the girls.
He followed Ed mechanically into the office. The manager was at the desk looking over the register.
"A young lady has just disappeared from the west-end porch," began Ed, rather awkwardly, "and I fear that something strange has happened to her. I was called in here by this fake message"—he produced a slip of blank paper—"and while I was in here she disappeared."
"No one else gone?" asked the manager with a questioning smile.
"Why, no," replied Ed indignantly. "I was with Miss Kimball almost up to the moment she disappeared."
Jack stepped forward. "I know that my sister would not give us one moment's anxiety were it in her power to avoid it," he said. "She is the most thoughtful girl in the world."
The manager was looking at the envelope Ed held. "Who did you say told you about this?" he asked of Ed.
"A waiter."
"Just come along with me, and we will see the waiters and kitchen men before we disturb the guests," said the manager.
They passed through the halls, where knots of the guests were strolling about passing the time between the dances—all apparently happy and contented. But Jack and Ed! What would be the outcome of their anxiety?
"This way," said the hotel proprietor. "Let me see, you are——" he paused suggestively.
"My name is Foster, and this is Mr. Kimball," said Ed.
In the kitchen they found everything in confusion. The chef had lined up every man in the department, and he was questioning them.
"What's this?" asked Mr. Blake, the proprietor.
"Some one has been in here, or some one here has made away with a lot of the silver and with money from the men's pockets," replied the chef indignantly. "We have got to find out who is the culprit. I won't stand for that sort of thing."
"Certainly not," Mr. Blake assured him, "but perhaps we can help you. Mr. Foster, will you kindly pick out the man who told you about that message?"
The men stood up. Ed scrutinized each carefully.
"None of these," he said finally.
"Are you sure every one is here, Max?" asked Mr. Blake.
"Every one, sir; even the last man I hired, who has never had an apron on yet."
"Could it be any one from the outside?" faltered Jack.
"No one could get in here and manage to make his way through——"
"Excuse me, sir," said a very blond young waiter, "but I think a stranger has been in here. My locker was broken open and my apron—one of the best—is gone."
"Is that so?" spoke Mr. Blake sharply. "Then we have no time to spare.
The young lady——"
"Oh, don't say it," cried Jack. "Cora kidnapped!"
"Jack, old boy, be brave," whispered Ed, patting him on the shoulder.
"Wherever Cora is, the gods are with her!"
"We must first institute a thorough search," declared Mr. Blake. "You men form an outside posse. Be quick. Search every inch of the grounds. Max, no more kitchen duty to-night. Here, Ben, you ring the hall bell. That will bring the porters together. Then, Dave"—to a handsome young Englishman—"I put you in charge. That young lady must be found tonight."
Ed and Jack exchanged glances. Would she really be found? Oh, how terrible it all seemed!
"I must speak with Mr. Rand," said Jack. "Ed, you tell the girls."
All that had been gayety and gladness was instantly turned into consternation and confusion. A young lady lured away from the Tip-Top! And the hotel crowded with guests!
Belle was obliged to call for a doctor. Nor was it any case of imagined nerves. The excitement of the big ball had been enough, the disappearance of Cora was more than her weak heart could stand. Bess tried to be brave, but to lose Cora! Then she recalled the face at the window.
Hazel and Betty waited for nothing, but took up a lantern and started out to search. If she had fallen down some place! Oh, if they could only make her hear them!
"Here, porter," called Mr. Rand, when he had heard all the details that could be given, "get me a donkey—a good, lively donkey. I can manage one of the little beasts better than I can a horse. I used to ride one in Egypt. I'll go over the hills if it is midnight."
"Oh, don't, Mr. Rand," begged Jack. "You are not strong enough to go over the mountains that way."
"I am not, eh! Well, young man, I'll show you!" and he was already waiting for the donkey to be brought up from the hotel stables. "Nothing like a good donkey for a thing that has to be done."
But it was such a wild wilderness—the sort chosen just on that account for hotel purposes. And after the brilliancy of the ballroom it did seem so very dark out of doors.
"This way, Hazel," said Betty courageously. "I know the loneliest spot. Maybe she has been stolen, and might be hidden away in that hollow."
"But if we go there alone——"
"I'm not afraid," and Betty clutched her light stick. "If I found her, they would hear me scream all the way to—Portland!"
Men were searching all over the grounds. Every possible sort of outdoor lantern had been pressed into service, and the glare of searchlights flickered from place to place like big fireflies.
It was terrible—everything dreadful was being imagined. Only Ed, Walter and Jack tried to see a possibility of some mistake—of some reasonable explanation.
It was exciting at first, that strange, dark hunt, but it soon became dreary, dull and desolate.
Hazel and Betty gave up to have a good cry. Jack and Ed insisted upon following Mr. Rand on horses, making their way over the mountain roads and continually calling Cora.
Walter followed the advice of the hotel proprietor, and went to notify the drivers of a stage line, which took passengers on at the Point.
But how suddenly all had been thrown into a panic of fear at the loss of Cora! Not a girl to play pranks, in spite of some whispers about the hotel, those most concerned knew that Cora Kimball was at least being held a prisoner against her will somewhere; by whom, or with whom, no one could conjecture.
What really had become of daring, dashing Cora Kimball?