"Sold her ortermobile," stated Uncle Jason gruffly.
"No!"
"Yes, she did. I been over to Cross Moore's an' put it right up to him. You know what he is. He'd buy a cripple's wooden laig if he could see his way ter makin' a profit on it. He got the car at a cheap price, I calculate, and agreed to say nothing about it till arter Janice had gone. Oh! I ain't worried about Janice's means. It's what may happen to her down there."
"She can't get beyond the Border," Nelson declared.
"We don't know. You know how detarmined Janice is. I snum! we'd oughter know her detarmination now."
"It don't matter. Nothin' don't matter," Mrs. Day groaned. "She's gone—an' Marty's gone. An' what ever will become of 'em 'way down there among them murderin' Mexicaners——"
"Well, well, Almiry! They ain't got there yet," put in Mr. Day.
Nelson Haley had never felt so helpless in all his life. Not even when charged with stealing a collection of gold coins that had been intrusted to the care of the School Committee, had the young man felt any more uncertain as to his future course. What should he do? Indeed, what could he do now that Janice had really departed from Polktown?
Whether it would have been quite the proper thing or not for him to have accompanied the girl on her long journey, did not now enter into the situation. Janice was gone and he was here—and he felt himself to be a rather useless sort of fellow. He now thought very seriously of the last words Janice had spoken to him the day before:
"If it were you who were wounded and alone down there in Mexico do you suppose any power on earth would keep me from going to you?"