“Has anybody seen Freckles?” she called.
“Not since this morning,” replied her daughter. “I tried to get him to help us, but he said he was off for the day with his gang.”
“Yes, I know that. I gave him some lunch. But he ought to be home by now.”
“He’ll probably be along in a minute.”
But he did not come. David went back to the inn, and Mrs. Gay and the two girls dressed for the picnic, but still Freckles did not appear.
“We can’t go off and leave him without any supper,” said Mrs. Gay. “Because Mrs. Flick is going to close the dining room and lock up at six-thirty.”
“If we could only phone the Smiths,” sighed Mary Louise. “He’s probably over there with the boys.... Suppose Jane and I run over?”
“It’s too far. It will make you late for supper.”
“Not very late. We’ll hurry. Come on, Jane. We’ll be back in ten minutes. But you go on down to the inn, Mother, and order the dinner.”
Mrs. Gay nodded, immensely relieved. What a comfort Mary Louise was! You never had to ask her to do anything for you.