But neither Mr. Jerry nor his Aunt Mary had seen Mary Rose that day. Jimmie Bronson, who came in while Mrs. Donovan was inquiring, had not seen her since noon. Mrs. Donovan was very uneasy as she went home.
"The little thing's that friendly and honest herself she thinks everyone else is friendly. She don't know anythin' about city folks. I wish she'd come," she told Mrs. Schuneman who came down to hear if Mary Rose had been found.
"You remember that girl over on Sixth Avenue who was kidnapped last—" began Mrs. Schuneman and clapped her hand over her mouth, hoping Mrs. Donovan had not heard.
But she had heard and her face whitened. The minutes dragged slowly by and Mary Rose did not come home. Larry Donovan was downtown and was late, also. When he did come in he could not understand at first that Mary Rose was missing.
"She's in the house somewhere," he insisted, "with Miss Carter or old lady Johnson."
"I've inquired at every flat in the building," half sobbed Mrs. Donovan. "I can't imagine where she is."
"Who's her teacher?" asked Bob Strahan. "Do you know her name? I'll telephone and ask her if she knows whether Mary Rose went off with any of the kids."
Mrs. Donovan stopped twisting a corner of her white apron.
"Her teacher's name is Choate, Isabel Choate. But I dunno where she lives," she wailed.
"The directory does," Bob Strahan said encouragingly. "And so, I'm sure, does the telephone book."