“Certainly,” replied the girl. “From the kitchen?”
“Yes. From the kitchen.”
The woman sank back on her pillow, and Mary Louise went for the water. When she returned, Rebecca was half asleep.
“Here’s your water, Rebecca,” she said. “But where is Hattie?”
“I don’t know. Gone away, I guess. They’ve all gone away.... Soon I’ll go too....” Her voice trailed off as if she were half dreaming, and Mary Louise walked to the door. She heard the sound of a car in the driveway below, and hoping that it might be Hattie, she went down the stairs.
But the car standing in front of the house was not the dilapidated Ford that belonged to the Adams family. It was a big black limousine which reminded Mary Louise of a hearse or a funeral carriage, and she shuddered. It might have been an ambulance, but ambulances were usually white. She wondered what a car like that could be doing at the Adams farm.
Two men got down from the driver’s seat in front, and Tom Adams came and joined them at the porch steps. They talked in low tones to each other. Mary Louise opened the screen door and came out on the porch. Suddenly she heard her own name mentioned, and a cold chill of horror crept up her spine. What were they planning to do to her?
“She says she’s Mary Louise Gay,” remarked Tom. “Insists on it. And she does look like a girl by that name. But don’t believe her. She’s my sister Rebecca.” He raised his eyes and looked straight at Mary Louise. “Hello, Rebecca!” he said. “We’re going to take you for a ride!”
Mary Louise’s brown eyes flashed in anger.
“Rebecca’s upstairs, sick in bed,” she retorted. “Go and see for yourselves.”