Many of those who gathered around Mrs. Paxton were inclined to think the note a hoax, but Mrs. Dainty, coming forward, lifted her handsome head, and looking at the men who were lounging comfortably in the large rockers, or sitting upon the piazza railing, spoke the word that spurred them to action.
"Is it safe to guess that this is a joke? True, it is written in a boyish hand, and while it may be a boy's joke, may it not be a boy's means of telling us what has actually happened? I would not, were I a man, take the responsibility or chance, of leaving Floretta out there, because I would go to the place, and thus learn, not guess, if this information be true."
She had scarcely finished speaking when a number of men rose, and one, who chose to lead the party, lifted his hat to Mrs. Dainty, saying:
"We are off, madam. We only needed an inspiration to move us to endeavor."
She bowed and smiled, as she said:
"One thing I ask of you. Go as quickly as possible, for the sake of the frightened child, and the anxious mother."
"In all possible haste," was the quick reply, and she turned to offer what comfort she might to the woman who seemed nearly distracted.
And all this time, what had been happening in the wood? For a long time Floretta had cried, screamed, and shouted, hoping that the boys would come back and release her.
Then, when she knew that they must be too far away to hear her, she tore at the clasping bonds, trying in every way to free herself. With feet and hands she strove to loosen the tough, wiry vines, kicking and trampling with her restless feet, beating and bending with her little hands, until they were torn and bleeding, and the tormenting vines seemed only to hold her with a firmer grasp, as if to prove how useless was her struggle.