“But she can’t walk, you know,” squeaked Runyon. “Baby didn’t go alone; some one took her.”
“True enough,” observed Uncle John. “You’re wrong, Patsy. We must try to decide who took baby, and why. Then we might undertake the search with a chance of success.”
“Whoever took baby went on foot,” persisted Miss Doyle. “The only four automobiles in the neighborhood are now standing in our driveway and in the garage. This is a country of great distances, and no matter in what direction the baby has been taken an auto is sure to overhaul her, if we don’t waste valuable time in getting started.”
“That’s right!” cried Arthur, turning from Louise. “The theory agrees with old Miguel’s suspicion about Inez, and—”
“What suspicion?” cried half a dozen.
“Never mind that,” said Rudolph, with a hasty glance toward Louise; “let’s be off, and talk afterward.”
“We men must decide on our routes and all take the road at once,” proposed Rudolph.
“It’s pitch dark,” said Runyon.
“Would you like to wait until morning?” demanded Rudolph, sarcastically.
“No; I want to rescue that baby,” said the big fellow.