“No, you must not,” said the physician. “Well, I will go back to my little patient,” and he sighed, for even he was affected by Dodo’s suffering.
Grace sought out Paul, who was with his aunt, whom Grace knew slightly. Mrs. Carr greeted her warmly, and put her arms about her in sympathy. Paul looked up at the familiar face and asked:
“Oo dot any tandy?”
“No, dear,” said Grace, gently, “but I’ll get you some soon. Mollie will bring some, perhaps.”
With this promise Paul was content, and Mrs. Carr left him with Grace.
Poor Grace! With all the whirl that her head was in, feeling as wretched as she did, one thought was uppermost in her mind—the papers in the saddlebag. So much might happen to the valuable documents that were needed now—this very instant, perhaps—by her father. She almost wanted to go out in the storm and search for Prince.
“But perhaps he ran straight home to the stable,” she reasoned. “In that case it will be all right, if only they think to go out and get them from the saddle, and take them to papa. Oh, if only Will were home from that ball game. What can I do? The telephone! They will be worried when they see Prince come home, cut, and will think I am badly hurt. I must let them know at once.”
Mrs. Carr took her unexpected guest to the telephone, and Grace was soon talking to her mother.
“Don’t worry, Momsey,” she said. “Prince ran away with me—an auto hit him—now don’t faint, I am all right. I’m at Mollie’s Aunt Kittie’s. Poor Dodo is hurt, I’ll tell you about that later. But, listen. Go out to the stable—I suppose Prince ran there: Get those papers from the saddle, and send them to papa at once. Grandma’s papers. They are very important. What? Prince has not come home? Oh, what can have become of him? Those missing papers! Oh, telephone to papa at once! He must do something,” and Grace let the receiver fall from her nerveless hand as she looked out into the storm. The rain, after a long dry spell, was coming down furiously.