The boy's rigid body did not relax at her assurance, nor did her argument lessen his determination.
"But what about Lem? You don't know Lem, Sister Ann. He's the worst man I ever see. I've got to go and get my sister!"
"Floyd, you'd die if you should try to go out now. Why, Dear, you can scarcely stand. Now, listen! I'll send a telegram to my brother, and he'll be right back. Then, if you are determined to go, and can, he'll take you. Why, child, you haven't been out in weeks!"
Three days crawled slowly along, and yet Horace made no response to the many frantic telegrams that Ann had sent. Never had the hours seemed so leaden-winged as those passed waiting for him to come. Ann had received one note from him, and three letters for Fledra lay unopened in the girl's room. His note to Ann was from Boston, and she immediately sent a despatch to him there.
On the fourth day after Fledra's disappearance, when Ann met her brother, one glance told her that he was unaware of their trouble.
"Oh, Horace, I thought you'd never get here! Didn't you receive any of my telegrams?"
"No! What's the matter? Has something happened to Floyd? Where's Fledra?"
"Gone!" gasped Ann.
"Gone! Gone where?"