"No, Maud," answered Bob, "but I heard you had been stolen, and I determined to carry you back, if I could."
"On what street does your father live?" asked Bob, later.
"On Laclede Avenue."
"Can you tell me the number?"
This also Maud was able to tell. At the first stopping-place, after he had obtained this information, Bob, appreciating the anxiety of Maud's friends, telegraphed her father as follows:
I have discovered your little daughter, and am on my way to the city with her. She was taken to Rocky Creek, and confined there. Our steamer—the Gazelle—will probably arrive at her wharf to-morrow morning.
Robert Burton.
When this telegram was received, Mr. Pearson was suffering deep grief and anxiety; but the message comforted him not a little.
When the steamer reached the pier, a middle-aged man of medium size and dark complexion was waiting on the wharf.
"That's my papa!" exclaimed Maud, clapping her hands; and the little girl danced on the deck in her joy.
In a moment she was in the arms of her father.