"Where's Father?" I asked, looking at Sarah.
"Somewhere's with Doctor Denton," she answered. And as she did so, a gay whistle reached me from the direction of our gate.
"Perhaps that's Father now." I said hopefully. But it was only Doctor Bill, hatless, coatless, swinging up the path and cutting across to us.
"Miss Carroll," he said smiling, "your father asked me to tell you...." and then, "Why, what's the matter?"
He looked from one to the other, and it was Sarah who answered.
"It's Peter, Doctor. He's lost."
"Lost! Nonsense. He couldn't get lost here. Every one in Green Hill knows the little chap. Where have you looked?" he asked Mrs. Goodrich.
"Everywhere. And telephoned every house for miles. His father is in town, you know. Oh...." she broke off incoherently, "I can never forgive myself—my baby—"
The doctor's hand was on her, quieting, soothing.
"Mustn't break down, Mrs. Goodrich. Suppose you sit here for a bit with Miss Carroll and get your breath. We'll find the boy, won't we, Wiggles?" The dog jumped at the sound of his name in the beloved voice, and began chasing his tail in an ecstasy of showing off.