“I wish Beverly had been here,” said Nancy when they were almost at the top of the slope. “Perhaps she would have dared to speak to the Indian and ask if she had seen Patsy.”
“Beverly is sound asleep,” said Anne. “Nothing seems to disturb her. I tumbled over my camp-stool, but she didn’t hear.”
“Thank you for coming,” said Nancy, touching Anne’s hand as they parted at the Fairy Ring.
“I’m sorry we didn’t find him,” said Anne earnestly. “Maybe he will come yet.”
Nancy shook her head. “No,” she said, “I haven’t any hope now.”
At breakfast the three girls came in looking rather pale and very sleepy. Patsy was still missing. They could hardly make the others believe that they had really gone down the pasture by moonlight. And when they told about Sal Seguin, Dick insisted that they must have been dreaming. But when they mentioned Sal’s bundle, Hugh thought, as Anne had done, about Patsy’s white fur. “I wish we had never seen that old Indian!” he said.
Nancy had stolen away as soon as possible to make a last despairing search for her pet. And while the others were still talking about the adventure of the night before, questioning Cicely and Anne, as they wiped the breakfast dishes, the Twins set up a shout.
“Here she is! Nancy has Patsy in her arms.”
Breathless Nancy was toiling up the slope, carrying the great ball of fluff. Her eyes were shining and she laughed out loud with happiness as she shouted “I’ve got him! I’ve got him! The prodigal son!”
“Where did you find him, Nancy?” asked Anne dropping her dish towel and running to stroke the soft white fur of the blinking cat.