The girls fell silent. They had met another stone wall. They had neither Dimitri nor the snuffbox. They were as much in the dark as ever.
“But, Melissa,” Sim began, “what could have happened to it?”
“I don’t know,” Melissa replied slowly.
They looked curiously at the bare little room. Poor child, it was not surprising that she loved bright shiny things so much. In a place such as this was, anyone would crave relief from its drabness.
Arden turned to go, and the others were about to follow when they were halted by the sound of heavy footsteps hastening up the wooden steps that led into the house.
The three girls drew together. Serge stepped forward as though to protect them.
“It’s Pa,” Melissa said, looking fearfully at them.
“What’s going on in here?” an angry voice was heard before they saw the owner of it.
Melissa shrank back to the wall between the bed and bureau.
“What are you people doing here? Who let you in here?” It was George Clayton, wildly angry at this invasion of his property.