But Mrs. Haddon brushed her impatiently aside.
“I’m not going to faint,” she said brusquely. “Tell me why you said that. Hurry!”
But Laura thought she had done enough speechmaking for one day, and it was Billie who answered the woman’s questions.
“It must be ours,” said the latter, at last. “I will go with you and make sure. Peter? Yes, he will be all right till I get back. He is much better. I will be ready in a moment.”
She returned in less than a minute, a hat perched carelessly on her head and a shawl around her shoulders. Her eyes burned bright in her thin face.
No one spoke on the way back. Mrs. Haddon, her lips set and her eyes fixed straight ahead, said not a word, and the girls were too awed by her emotion to break the silence.
Miss Walters met them in the hall, said a few words to Mrs. Haddon, then, seeing that the woman was keyed to the breaking point, led the way straight to the tower room.
The girls ran up the ladder ahead of the two older women. The latter followed more slowly. Billie pushed open the little door and entered the room.
Then she started, gasped, rubbed her hand across her eyes to make sure she was not dreaming. For the spot where the queer wooden machinery had stood was empty. The invention was gone; and the blue prints were gone, too!