"Oh, Mother," said Frances, "Roger wouldn't deliberately frighten us, especially when he's been so upset over Win."
"But where is he?" said Mrs. Thayne again. "Thank goodness! Here's
Mr. Fisher."
She hurried down to intercept the tutor at the door. Lingering at the head of the stair, Frances heard her name called from Win's room.
"Is Mother dreadfully troubled?" he asked as she entered. "I think
Roger went back to the cave and has been shut in."
"Oh, I hope not," said Frances. "Mother's annoyed but it seems to me he must be all right. When he gets ready he will turn up with some wonderful tale of adventure."
"I suspect he's in some scrape," said Win. "Might not be such a bad idea to appeal to the police after all. I only wish I wasn't such a helpless stick," he added rather bitterly.
"Mr. Fisher has gone down to the beach," reported Frances from the window. "I'm glad he's come, for Mother will feel better to have him to consult."
Both were silent for a moment, thinking of Roger, blunt, loyal, impulsive Roger, hoping that nothing serious had befallen him.
Presently Mrs. Thayne came, her face expressing a calm she did not feel. "Mr. Fisher thinks there is no cause for us to worry," she remarked placidly. "He is going to take what he calls a 'turn about the town.' Frances, suppose you go on reading to Win while I sew a little."
Frances took the book Win held out to her, and Mrs. Thayne's fingers twitched the needle through her embroidery, both ears alert for sound of returning steps. The clock struck three and then four. Nothing happened. Roger did not come and Mr. Fisher did not reappear.