“Hurry up Bev! You’ll be late for breakfast. You’ve done some sleeping since ten o’clock last night,” called Sally, pounding upon the door of bedroom A, but getting no response.
Aileen had already knocked and called without eliciting a reply, and both the girls were worried but tried not to show it. When ten more minutes passed in silence Aileen looked troubled and asked:
“Do you think she is ill? Ought we to call Miss Stetson?”
“Miss Stetson!” snapped Sally. “If she is ill she would rather see the old Nick himself than Miss Stetson. I’ll run and get Mrs. Bonnell.”
In spite of her anxiety Aileen laughed. True enough, Miss Stetson was not exactly the person to call in when one was ill. “That’s true, Mrs. Bonnell will be the one to call. But I wish Bev would answer. It scares me almost to death. And I’d like right well to know what happened last night. Beverly Ashby is not the sort of girl to go up in the air over nothing, believe me, but she was pretty high up last night. Do go for Bonny, Sally. I’m too nervous to wait another minute.”
“All right,” and away sped Sally down the corridor. As she reached the foot of the stairs she almost ran into Wesley.
“Has yo’ heard what done happen las’ night, Miss Sally?” he asked excitedly.
“No. What was it?” asked Sally eagerly.
“Miss Bev’ly’s hawse done been stole f’om de stable; saddle, bridle an’ all.”
“Never!” cried Sally.