"You don't have to talk," smiled Janice. "Just love her—that is all you need do. You do love her, and don't let anybody tell her differently."
There was a lamp burning in Nelson Haley's study, and Janice tapped lightly on the window pane, bringing him to the front door. She did not wish to run the gantlet of Mrs. Beaseley's volubility on this occasion.
"My dear!" said the schoolmaster, drawing her within and seeing her very serious face. "Nothing new has happened?"
"About daddy?" she sighed. "Nothing that I am aware of. I know nothing, Nelson. But I feel that I must know very soon. This uncertainty is killing me!"
"My dear girl," he murmured. "I wish I could help you."
"But you can't," she broke in with energy. "Nobody can. I must help myself now, for you and the others have done all you could."
"Why, Janice, what more can you do than we have attempted?" he asked wonderingly. "The moment any news comes over the Border of your father it will be telegraphed North."
"And do you think I can wait here—inactive, hopeless—for something to turn up? Why, Nelson! there is nobody down there with any special interest in daddy. The men who are engaged in the mining enterprise with him are all in the North here."
"Yes, yes," Nelson cried. "But what can be done? What can I do? What can any of us do, my dear Janice?"
"I don't know that anybody can do anything—up here. But I mean to go down there—yes, I do! I am going to find my father, Nelson."