“Now what can Max want at this time of night?” demanded Mary Louise impatiently. She longed so terribly to get into her room by herself and count the money.
“Here they are, Mrs. Gay!” called a masculine voice from the porch. “They’re all right, apparently.”
The two mothers appeared on Mary Louise’s porch.
“What in the world happened?” demanded Mrs. Patterson. “Mrs. Gay and I have been worried to death.”
“Not to mention us,” added Norman Wilder from the doorstep. “We phoned all your friends, and nobody had seen a thing of you.”
“I wish we could tell you all about it,” answered Mary Louise slowly. “But we aren’t allowed to. All I can say is, it’s something in connection with Elsie Grant—the orphan, you know, Mother, whom we told you about.”
Mrs. Gay looked relieved but not entirely satisfied.
“I can’t have you two girls going up that lonely road at night, dear,” she said. “To the Grants’ place, I mean. It isn’t safe.”
“Oh, we weren’t there tonight,” Jane assured her, not going on to explain that they had gone somewhere far more dangerous.
“Well, if you do have to go there, let Max or Norman drive you,” suggested Mrs. Patterson. “The boys are willing, aren’t you?”