"Maybe she has gone somewhere and is afraid to come back till morning," repeated Ruth.
"She's been after me to take her up to that dam where we caught the fish, in the afternoon; but I told her we couldn't get home before pitch dark. I ought to have taken her along, I guess, and said nothing," Curly added reflectively.
"Last night she was talking about it. She said I should take her because I took you there."
"You don't suppose she's gone clear over there by herself, do you?" Ruth cried, in alarm.
"I don't believe she knows how to start, even," Curly said easily. "And I told her last night she'd better not go anywhere till she got rid of that sore throat."
"Sore throat!" repeated Ruth, with added worriment. "I never knew her throat was sore."
"She told me, she did," Curly said. "It was pretty bad, I guess, too. I guess maybe she was afraid to say anything about it. I don't like to tell Gran when there's anything the matter with me. She mixes up such nasty messes for me to take!"
"The poor child!" murmured Ruth, thinking only of Amy Gregg. "What shall we do?"
"I'll get a lantern and we'll go hunt around for her," suggested Curly, ripe for any adventure.
"But where will we hunt?"