“If we stay right here,” said Jean, “they may catch up.”
“If we go back for a couple of blocks,” said Marjory, “we may find them.”
“Perhaps,” suggested Bettie, “they passed us when we stopped to look at those clocks.”
“It’s time we were having our lunch,” said Mr. Black. “Suppose we walk back and forth the length of this block—we must find those girls.”
“Couldn’t we ask that policeman if he had seen two girls, one fat and one very dark?” asked Marjory.
They could and they did, but the policeman hadn’t. He looked indeed as if he had never condescended to see anything below the level of his own lofty chin.
“Now what,” asked worried Mr. Black, taking off his hat and mopping his forehead, “would you do, girls, if you were lost?”
“I’d die,” said Marjory.
“I’d telegraph my father,” said Bettie.
“I’d remember that I was going to Hiltonburg on the three o’clock train,” said Jean, “and I’d ask a policeman how to get to the station.”