"Yez kin sleep together," he told them, "unless yez want to set up an' watch them beauties in there. I guess yez both'll find some Social Service work to do in the mornin'."
"But what about mother?" Jess anxiously enquired. "I'm afraid something has happened to her."
"An' so yez didn't come with her, eh?"
"No," Jess somewhat reluctantly replied. "Mother left in Mrs. Dimock's car ahead of us."
"An' you two walked, I s'pose? My, yez must be fond of walkin' all the way from Glucom at this time of night. Fer the good of ye'r health, no doubt. More Social Service idea, eh? I've heard of sich cases before. Tildy used to be fond of walkin' before we was married. Said she liked it, 'specially when a man was along."
"Don't make fun of us, daddy," Jess pleaded. "It is no time for joking when mother may be lying injured somewhere along the road."
"She can't be between here an' town, or you'd have seen her," Abner reasoned. "But mebbe yez didn't, fer there's a time in life when young people are blind an' deaf, so I understand."
"Don't you think we had better go and look for mother?" Jess insisted.
"Oh, she'll turn up safe an' sound, never fear. Ye couldn't lose Tildy. Anyway, if Mrs. Ikey's chafer has run away with her, he'll soon bring her back. So git away to bed now, fer I'm most awful sleepy."
There was no more sleep, however, for Abner after the girls had left. He was much concerned about his wife, and he lay there trying to imagine what had happened to her. At length he rose, dressed, and went downstairs. Closing the door between the kitchen and the dining-room, he lighted the fire, and prepared a cup of coffee.