An examination of the muddy bank of the stream proved fruitless, and they went on till the stile was reached leading into the next large field. "You'll catch cold, Miss," Slade said solicitously, noting a shiver. "I don't know as it's much use going farther. Miss Mittie isn't likely to be there."
"Hush! O hush!"
Hermione stood like a statue, listening.
"I can't hear nothing," Slade declared. He was too much excited for his usual careful choice of words.
"O hush!"
Slade obeyed, and there was another pause.
"Yes, it is her voice! A child crying! Oh, make haste!"
"Are you sure, Miss?" Slade's voice was more than dubious.
"Quite sure. Quick, Slade! she is somewhere near!"
Hermione sprang over the stile, and took the lead. She pressed forward eagerly, pausing from time to time to study the direction of the sounds, which grew more distinct as they advanced. Slade was soon obliged to admit that "there was something!"