"Oh, hello, Daddy!" cried Alice, blowing him a kiss. "I'm almost ready."
"Hum, yes! You look it!" and he laughed.
"It's this, Daddy," went on Ruth, holding out the paper. "We were going to wrap Alice's muddy shoes in this sheet, when we happened to notice an account of the mysterious disappearance of a Mildred Passamore, of San Francisco, for whom ten thousand dollars reward is offered. There has been nothing in the New York papers about it."
Mr. DeVere, an old-time actor, and now employed, with his daughters, by a large motion picture concern, reached forth his hand for the paper. He gave one look at the article, and then his eyes went up to the date-line. He laughed.
"No wonder there hasn't been anything in the New York papers of to-day about this case," he said. "This paper is four years old! But I remember the Passamore case very well. It created quite a sensation at the time."
"Poor girl! Was she ever found?" asked Ruth.
"Why, yes; I believe she was," said Mr. DeVere, in rather dreamy tones. He was looking over other articles in the paper.
"Who got the reward?" asked Alice.
"Eh? What's that?" Her father seemed to come back from a mental journey to the past.
"I say, who got the reward?"