"It didn't seem many minutes before you came; but I s'pose it must have been, else he'd be 'round here now."
"Run up to the barn and see if he is there!"
As she spoke the little woman went down the lane, returning just as Jack came back.
"He isn't there," the latter said.
"Nor on the road. Of course he must be somewhere near, for children can't disappear entirely in such a mysterious fashion. Go up the lane and I'll look back of the barn."
"But then we shall be leaving the barn alone You stay here an' I'll do the searchin'."
"It wouldn't make any difference if we left the house wide open for a month, I couldn't stand still while that dear little baby is wandering around nobody knows where."
Jack understood that it would be useless to remonstrate, and started off at full speed.
Up to the entire length of the lane he ran without finding that for which he sought, and then back to the house where he was met by Aunt Nancy on whose wrinkled face was written fear and anguish.
She did not wait for him to tell her that the search had been in vain, but cried,—