Allison seemed quite satisfied with these sentiments, and they had a beautiful time eating their supper before the fire, for no one had had any appetite before; and 264 Cherry was as pleased to have the anxiety over and wait upon them all as if Leslie had been her own sister.
Into the midst of their little family group broke a hurried, excited knock on the door, and there stood Howard Letchworth with anxious face.
“I heard that your sister and one of the college girls had gone off in a car and got lost. Is it true? I came right around to see if I could help.”
Leslie sat up with her teary eyes bright and eager, and her cheeks rosy with pleasure, all her pretty hair in a tumble about her face and the firelight playing over her features in a most charming way.
“Oh, it’s awfully good of you,” she called eagerly. “But I’m perfectly all right and safe.”
He came over to the couch, and took her offered hand most eagerly, expressing his delight, and saying he had been almost sure it was some town gossip, but he could not rest satisfied until he was positive.
But Allison would not let it go at that.
“I’m going to tell him, Leslie,” he said. “He won’t let any one be the wiser; and, if people are saying anything like that, he can help stop their mouths.” So Allison told the whole story. When it came to the part about Fred Hicks and Bartram Laws, Howard’s face grew dark, and he flashed a look that boded no good to the two young ruffians.
“I know who that Laws fellow is,” he said gravely. “He’s rotten! And I shouldn’t wonder if I could locate his friend. I get around quite a bit on my motor-cycle. May I use your ’phone a minute? I have a friend who is a detective. They ought to be rounded up. Miss Leslie, would you tell me carefully just what roads you took, as nearly as you know?”