“No, my dear,” he replied slowly. “I don’t think Elsie Grant is lost. Neither does Mary Lou. I’m afraid she’s headed straight for Harrisburg—and may have arrived by this time.”
“Harrisburg?” repeated Mrs. Gay. “Why, that’s sixty miles away! She couldn’t walk that far.”
“No, I don’t expect her to walk. I think she took the train—not from Riverside, but from the next station.”
“How could she take a train? She couldn’t buy a ticket, for she hasn’t any money.”
“We are afraid, my dear, that Elsie Grant has plenty of money, though she may encounter a little difficulty in spending it, since the new law was passed. We believe that she stole those gold pieces from her aunt—and last night a necklace was taken, so it looks as if she had that too.”
“How terrible!” exclaimed Mrs. Gay, looking at Mary Louise as if she expected her to protest, or at least explain, her father’s accusation. But the girl was sitting disconsolately with her head bowed, as if she believed that every word was true.
“What shall we do, Daddy?” Mary Louise asked finally, in a hopeless tone.
“Notify the railroad stations to be on watch for a girl of Elsie’s description, who probably tried to buy a ticket with a gold piece. Of course, it’s possible she may have stolen some change from her aunt’s pocketbook and used that for carfare.... Do you happen to know what kind of dress she was wearing, Mary Lou?”
“My green silk—with little flowers in it. I gave it to her.” The reply was almost a sob.
“I’ll attend to that part, then,” announced Mr. Gay. “And you will have to go over to see Mr. John Grant, Mary Lou, and tell him that Elsie has gone. It will be up to him to take charge of the affair.”