“Rachel!”
“Yes, your blush gives you away. If you know where she is, tell me. If she’s done nothing wrong it can do no harm to find her. If she has done anything wrong, she must be found.”
“I don’t know where she is, Mr. Fibsy——”
“Call me McGuire. And if you don’t know where she is, you know something about her disappearance. When did she go away?”
“I saw her last night. She said nothing about going away, but she seemed nervous and worried, and I couldn’t say anything to please her.”
“Can’t you form any idea of where she might have gone? Be frank, Fulton, for much depends on getting hold of that girl.”
“I can only say I’ve no idea where she is, but she may communicate with me. In that case——”
“In that case, let me know at once,” Fibsy commanded, and having learned all he could there, he went off to think up some other means of finding the lost Rachel.
Meantime Sam Appleby was taking his departure.
“I have to go,” he said, in response to the Wheelers’ invitation to tarry longer; “because Keefe is coming down to-morrow. One of us ought to be in father’s office all the time now, there’s so much to attend to.”