The amazed cry rang through the library, as the Winnebagos and Nyoda clutched each other convulsively.
“We must bring him back!” said Nyoda, and ran out to the barn to Sherry with the letter in her hand.
An hour later Sherry and Hercules sat drinking strong, hot coffee at the kitchen table while Nyoda hastily packed traveling bags for them. Hercules had forgotten all about dying. When he heard the news in the letter he sprang from bed and began dressing with greater speed than he had ever done in his life. The train for New York went in two hours and he and Sherry must catch it if they hoped to reach the steamer before she sailed. There was no way of reaching Tad by telegraph. They did not know what name he was going under, nor the name of the boat on which he was to sail. The only thing they could do was rush to New York, find out which boat was sailing for South America on the first, go on board and search for Tad. Only Hercules would be able to identify him. Hercules rose to the occasion.
“We certainly gave Hercules something to make him forget his superstition,” said Katherine, sitting down on the sink to collect her thoughts after the meteoric flight of the two men from the house.
“We certainly did,” said Migwan, trembling with excitement.
A racking cough sounded through the house. “Sh, Sylvia’s worse,” said Migwan, putting her fingers to her lips. “Don’t anybody go near her, or she’ll notice how excited you are. How on earth does Nyoda manage to keep so calm when she’s with her?”
“If Sylvia should get pneumonia—” began Sahwah, and then chocked over the dreadful possibility.
“If they only bring Mr. Phillips back in time,” said Katherine, as if echoing the thing that lay in Sahwah’s thoughts.
“Don’t say such dreadful things,” said Hinpoha, with starting tears.
“Maybe they won’t be able to find him at all,” said Katherine dubiously.