“Down towards the Brooklyn ferry.”
In a thoughtful mood, the young oarsman walked back upstairs. He met Mrs. Flannigan outside of the door.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Upton?”
“That is what I am trying to find out. Miss Ardell is missing. If I go out, will you look after the children?”
“Sure, Oi will, bless the dears,” she said. Her heart was as large as her ruddy, full-blown face.
Without waiting longer, Jerry ran down into the street and endeavored to trace the carriage down to the ferry. In this he was successful, and learned that the turnout containing two men and a young lady, who appeared to be ill, had crossed to Brooklyn.
By this time night had set in, and all efforts to follow the carriage proved unsuccessful. Yet unwilling to give up, Jerry spent over two hours in Brooklyn, hunting in every direction for a clew.
Our hero had never been across the East River before, and in hunting around it was but natural that he should get lost. At the end of the search he found himself a good distance from the river, in a neighborhood that looked anything but respectable.
“It’s time I got back,” thought the youth, and started to make inquiries.
“You’re a dozen blocks out of your way,” said a man. “Go down that way three blocks, and turn to your left.”