"Oh, Mrs. Snitzer, a man has just stolen Jack's model!" gasped the poor girl. "He ran down stairs."
"Ve saw him," put in Mr. Snitzer. "I go me after him," he continued, hurrying off as rapidly as his legs would move.
"Oh, what will Jack say when he hears that it's gone!" moaned Deb.
"Tell me apout it," said the kindly German woman.
She took the excited girl in her arms, and stroking the soft, curly hair, tried to calm Deb as best she could.
In a nervous voice the girl told her story. She was on the verge of hysterics, and it was only Mrs. Snitzer's quick sense of comprehension that enabled her fully to understand the situation.
In about ten minutes Mr. Snitzer returned. The look upon his face told plainly that he had failed in the pursuit.
"It vas no use," he said, "I couldn't see nodding of him;" and he dropped into a chair exhausted.
Deb's grief was hard to witness. It was bad enough to have Jack away, but to have some one steal his precious model, the idea of his life, was too dreadful to contemplate.
"I shall never get over it," she sobbed; "I ought to have been more careful!"