"Mrs. Davis! Mrs. Davis!" she called, "are you here?"
Again there was only silence. Mrs. Fairbanks sighed with deep suspense.
"Perhaps I had better get a light," suggested Ralph.
"I wish you would," said his mother.
Ralph flared a match. He discovered a lamp on a mantel-shelf and lighted it. Mother and son glanced about the apartment searchingly.
On the floor lay the heavy shawl Mrs. Fairbanks had stumbled over. A little table was overturned. A drapery that had festooned the entrance doorway from the hall was torn half loose, as if someone had grasped it in being dragged from the room.
"That looks bad," said Ralph gravely.
He took up the lamp and went all through the house. In the one upper chamber the contents of the bureau drawer were scattered all over the floor. A trunk was broken open, and its interior all in disorder.
"Is she here, Ralph?" questioned his mother anxiously, as he returned to the sitting room.
"No," answered Ralph. "Mother, there is foul play here."