“Oh, I’m quite willing to grovel in the dust at her feet,” said Migwan.
Gladys drove them all into town with her and they sped to the Brewster house. It was all dark and silent. Sahwah was evidently not there. They tried the neighbors. They all denied that she had been near the house. They finally came to this conclusion themselves, for in the light of the street lamp just in front of the house they could see that the porch was covered with a month’s accumulation of yellow dust which bore no footmarks but their own.
Here was a new problem. They had come expecting to offer profuse apologies to Sahwah and carry her back with them to Onoway House rejoicing, and it was a shock to find her gone. The thought of letting her go on believing that they mistrusted her was intolerable, but how were they going to clear matters up? Sahwah had no relatives in town, and, of course, they did not know all her friends, so it would be hard to find her. That is, if she had ever reached town at all. Something might have happened to her on the way—Nyoda and Gladys sought each other’s eyes and each thought of what had happened to them on the way to Bates Villa.
With heavy hearts they rode back to Onoway House. The days went by cheerlessly. A week passed since Sahwah had run away, but no word came from her. Nyoda interviewed the conductors on the interurban car line to find out if Sahwah had taken the car into the city. No one remembered a girl of that description on the day mentioned. Sahwah had only one hat—a conspicuous red one—and she would not fail to attract attention. Thoroughly alarmed, Nyoda decided on a course of action. She called up the various newspapers in town and asked them to print a notice to the effect that Sahwah had disappeared. If Sahwah were in town she would see it and knowing that they were worried about her would let them know where she was. The notice came out in the papers, and a day or two passed, but there was no word from Sahwah. Nyoda and Gladys made a hurried trip to town to put the police on the track. Just before they got to the city limits they had a blowout and were delayed some time before they could go on. As they waited in the road another machine came along and the driver stopped and offered assistance. Nyoda recognized a friend of hers in the machine, a Miss Barnes, teacher in a local gymnasium.
“Hello, Miss Kent,” she called, cheerfully, “I haven’t seen you for an age. Where have you been keeping yourself?”
“Where have you been keeping yourself?” returned Nyoda.
“I, Oh, I’m working this summer,” replied Miss Barnes. “I’m just in town on business. I’m helping to conduct a girls’ summer camp on the lake shore. I thought possibly you would bring your Camp Fire group out there this summer. One of your girls is out there now.”
“Which one?” asked Nyoda, thinking of Chapa and Nakwisi, whom she had heard talking about going.
“One by the name of Brewster,” said Miss Barnes, “a regular mermaid in the water. She has the girls out there standing open-mouthed at her swimming and diving. Why, what’s the matter?” she asked, as Nyoda gave a sigh of relief that seemed to come from her boots.
“Nothing,” replied Nyoda, “only we’ve been scouring the town for that very girl.”