"I can't understand it," said King, as they walked homeward; "and I can't believe it. If Midget went to New York alone, she had lost her mind,—that's all."
But when they reached home, they found the Maynards quite hopeful. It had occurred to them that, by some strange freak, Marjorie had decided to visit Grandma Maynard, and had started off there alone.
"I'm trying to get them on the long-distance," Mr. Maynard announced, quite cheerily, as they entered.
"Let me take it," said Cousin Jack. "If she isn't there, we don't want to alarm them, either."
"That's so!" said Mr. Maynard. "All right, Jack, take it. Bless you, old fellow, for your help."
But when connection had been made, and Cousin Jack found himself in communication with Grandma Maynard, he didn't know what to say. He caught at the first pretext he could think of, and said:
"How do you do, Mrs. Maynard? You don't know me, but I'm Jack Bryant, a guest at Ed Maynard's house in Seacote. Now, won't you tell me when Marjorie's birthday comes?"
"Ah, I've heard of you, Mr. Bryant," said Grandma Maynard, pleasantly. "I suppose you want to surprise the child with a present or a party. Well, her birthday is next week,—the fifteenth of July."
"Oh, thank you. She is getting a big girl, isn't she? When,—when did you see her last?"
Cousin Jack's voice faltered, but the unsuspecting lady, listening, didn't notice it.