"Yes. But they ran away first," explained Mollie, almost beside herself with anger and excitement. "And this old—brute! found them, and, I suppose because they were well dressed, thought he saw a way to make some easy money. Oh, my poor darlings! My poor little Paul and Dodo! Girls, we've just got to find them, that's all. I can't sit here and do nothing a minute longer."
"But the police—" Amy suggested.
"Oh, the police! Of course they are on the job—or think they are," interrupted Mollie scornfully. "But I don't believe they will be able to find our babies in a thousand years. And every time I think of them, frightened to death! Oh, our precious babies!"
"I wonder how he found out where they lived," broke in Grace, who had been following her own train of thought.
"They told him, of course," said Mollie. "Poor little trusting angels, of course they would think any grown person was their friend. Oh, if they had only fallen in with some respectable person instead of that—that—" she could think of nothing bad enough to call the man who had stolen the twins.
"Of course," said Mrs. Ford—it was the first time she had spoken—"your mother showed the letter to the police."
"Of course," Mollie agreed, two angry spots of color in her cheeks. "And equally of course they have promised to do all in their power to apprehend the villain. But it makes me wild to just sit here and do nothing!"
"But I don't see what there is to do," said Amy.
"Neither do I," cried Mollie, jumping to her feet and beginning to pace restlessly up and down the porch. "That's the worst of it. I feel so absolutely helpless. And all the time I have no way of knowing what horrible thing may be happening—"
"Oh, the man is probably treating them pretty decently," said Betty, adding, reasonably: "If he hopes to get all that money from your mother he isn't going to take a chance on losing it by harming the twins."