And through the gate they flew, down the street, and there Rose picked up a wallet, initialled G. W.
“It’s HIS!” her voice struck with awe.
Already the men were out of sight. There stood the three girls, the wallet in Rose’s hands, all their eyes big with the wonder of it. What to do next?
“We must take it to him,” Darthea said. “He may not miss it until he is on board, and so too late.”
It certainly seemed the thing to do. With a backward glance at the house, but in vain so far as seeing Mrs. Wynne or the boys went, the three set briskly off down the street.
“You know the way, do you, Darthea?” Ruth panted, as they flew along.
“Oh yes! It is not far. Two turns, and then straight down to the river and the dock where the ship lies. Is this not fortunate? But how fast they have gone.”
They reached the next corner just in time to see the Colonel with Mr. Wynne turn again out of sight. Passers-by stared at them, for the streets of Philadelphia were unused to seeing three girls, bare-headed and panting, hurrying frantically along.
“Suppose we miss him, what will we do?” Ruth gasped.
“We won’t,” Rose returned. “Look, there’s the river now.”