| ‘Let ’em alone, And they’ll come home, Wagging their tails behind them.’” |
They heard his great voice echo down the river, as they drove on.
Nobody had seen Clematis. Nobody knew anything about her.
Mrs. Alder looked everywhere at home.
Her bag and box were neatly packed and ready, but there was no sign of the little girl who owned them.
Many people were looking for Clematis that afternoon.
Ned Atkinson ran everywhere, telling people about the lost girl.
They looked in the woods and in the fields. They looked all along the river banks.
When night came, they were still hunting, but had found no trace of Clematis.
“I can’t sleep a wink tonight,” said Mrs. Alder. “I think the child must be crazy, to run off like that.”