“I surely will.”
“Tell him to make all haste to his uncle on Gosling Lake—Got that? That their little girl is lost, and her parents are distracted with grief—Get that? And they beg him to come as quickly as he can—Get that?”
Ham repeated the substance of the words, and then rang off.
“We may as well go to bed,” said Chester to the clerk, who had sauntered back to the settee and sat down. He lighted a tallow candle and led them upstairs to a roomy apartment, where he bade them good night, pausing at the door long enough to say:
“There’s only one other chap staying with us; he’s at t’other end of the hall. Do you want me to call you in the morning?”
“No; we shall wake early.”
“That’s a bad setback,” said Chester dejectedly, as the two began preparing for bed; “we never dreamed that Burton would be away from Mouse Island.”
“And with not the remotest idea of where to look for him. He left his uncle’s house this forenoon, and may be miles inland, without our being able to get track of him for a week. I can’t help feeling that Zip is the only one that can solve the puzzle, and it won’t take him long to do so.”
“No one who knows the dog can doubt that. If Sunbeam has managed to fall into the lake, he will lead us to the spot. If those scamps have stolen her, she will be found within an hour or two,—and then may the Lord have mercy on them!”
“Chest, do you believe they are mixed up in this business?”