"It ain't often you go to Glen Arbor, I reckon," said the neighbor, a farmer named Wilkins.
"No," she replied, "I am going to see what has become of Ralph."
"Ralph! What's the matter with him? Run away?"
"I hope not, Mr. Wilkins. But he did not return last night from a trip on the lake, and I am worried."
"Maybe he couldn't get back because he went too far and the wind died out."
"There was a good breeze all night."
"That's so, widow. Well, I hope you find Ralph all right."
"So do I," returned Mrs. Nelson.
She knew very well where Bill Franchard's boat-house was, and after leaving Mr. Wilkins, walked hither quickly. Luckily, she found Franchard on shore, mending one of his boats.
"Where is Ralph, Mr. Franchard?" she asked, hurriedly.