"I think Jessie went over to the other bungalow with her mother. She was as much upset as I was."
"Does she think the story is true?"
"She hopes it isn't. But of course she can't do anything—and I can't do anything either."
"Well, I don't see what I can do." Dave took a turn up and down the room, and then sank on a chair. "This just knocks me endwise. I can't even seem to think straight," he added, helplessly.
"You poor boy!" Laura came over and brushed back the hair from his forehead. "You don't know how this hurts, Dave. Oh, it can't be true!"
"I wonder how long I've got to wait before I hear from Crumville?"
"I am sure I don't know. I think, though, we'll get word just as soon as they know anything definite."
At that moment came a timid knock on the door, and Laura opened it to admit Jessie. The appearance of the girl showed that she was much upset. Her face was tear-stained and her hair awry.
"Oh, Dave!" was all she said. And then coming straight toward him, she threw her head on his shoulder and burst into a fit of weeping.
"There, there, Jessie! Don't you cry so," he said, soothingly. "I am sure it will be all right."