“When did you see her?”
“Shortly after noon to-day.”
“Where?”
“Near the Crawford Theater.”
“What was she doing there?”
Frank did not wish to tell that she had spoken to him. He said he did not know, and, in a clever manner, explained how he had talked with her, without telling how it came about.
“Poor Daisy! My little Daisy!” sobbed the woman. “She did not tell you the whole truth. She is not stopping with her friends here now. Her father was rather harsh with her, but he is ready enough to take her back. I followed her as soon as I could, but I have hunted, hunted, hunted—all in vain. Oh, I must find her! Can’t you help me?”
“My good woman, the best thing you can do is to get some rest to-night and look for your daughter to-morrow.”
“Rest! Do you think I can rest while my little girl is adrift in this wicked city? No, no! I shall never rest again till I find her!”
In vain Frank urged her, seeing that she was almost utterly worn out. She would not listen to him. She made him promise he would tell Daisy if he saw her that her mother was there searching everywhere for her. And then, all at once, the woman cried out that she must be searching, searching, and away she went.