At last Jessie, who was peering through the dim, dusty recesses of the low-ceiled attic, saw an old trunk, and, throwing it open, found Betty, cramped and aching, but game to the last.
“ ‘Oh, the mistletoe bough. Oh, the mistletoe bough,’ ” sang Jessie, as she helped Betty out.
“Am I the last?” cried Betty, looking at the girls, who came trooping up to see her hiding-place.
“No; Millicent is still missing,” said Marjorie.
“Then she gets the picture,” said Betty, looking disappointed, “and I wanted it.”
“Never mind, Peeler,” said Hester; “I’ll take another for you, and it will be just as jolly.”
Then they hunted for Millicent. But no trace of her could be found.
“She’s been shpirited away, I’m thinkin’,” said Rosie, who had returned and was much startled at what she thought an alarming disappearance.
“Let’s get Timmy Loo and see if he can’t find her,” said Marjorie, after they had called and yelled and begged Millicent to come to them.
“Yes; set the bloodhound on her track,” said Nan.