Once outside the house, however, they made thorough work of their search, but although they looked in every place that a small boy might get into, and in many that seemed impossible, they did not find him.
One man, tired and disgusted, grumbled as he tramped along, and several others who did not utter the thoughts that filled their minds, felt every bit as disgusted as he did.
"It's nonsense, clear nonsense, tramping all over the place, hunting for a little run-away rascal, who, at this moment, is doubtless eating a comfortable meal, after having returned when he felt like it."
When they reached the house, they were surprised to find that Max was not there.
It was the first time that a party searching for the boy had returned to learn that he was still missing.
Mrs. Deland had become quite used to having Max away sometimes all day, and often until after eight in the evening, and, as a rule, she was reasonably calm, but that nine o'clock should have passed without hearing from him seemed beyond belief.
With the return of the searching party her courage gave way, and she sank onto a low seat, her cheeks white, and her hands tightly clenched.
The women gathered about her, trying to comfort her, but she seemed not to hear what they said.
How still she sat, her hands still tightly clasped, her eyes looking from one face to another.
Then her eyes closed. She had fainted, and gently they carried her to her room, one woman promising to remain with her, after the doctor should have gone.