"Was that when you cried out?"
"No. That awful crash came a few seconds after she had answered me. I ran up here as fast as my feet would carry me. At first the dust was so thick I was unable to make out anything clearly. I called to Bab but she did not answer me. I then ran about the room in search of her, thinking that she had fallen and hurt herself. But she wasn't here," wailed Ruth. "Oh, what shall I do?"
"Calm yourself. That is the first thing to be done. There is something mysterious about this. I wish Bob Stevens were here."
"I sent Tom for him. Did you see Mr. Stevens, Tom?"
"No. I sent word by one of the hired hands," admitted Tom sheepishly. "I—I wanted to do some work in the cellar."
"Then go at once," commanded Mr. Presby sternly.
"Wait!" exclaimed Ruth. "I'll drive the car, storm or no storm. The cold air will help me to brace up. How far is it to Mr. Stevens' house?"
"Mile and a half," answered Tom.
"Come with me, Tommy. We will be there and back in twenty minutes. Do you know the way?"
"Yes, he knows the way. He knows too much about everything in these parts," answered Mr. Presby testily. "I will telephone to Mr. Stuart."