“Oh, Bert,” she said, in agony. “I can’t find Dollie! She’s gone somewhere, I don’t know where! She was in bed when I left her!”
Bert looked at her in surprise, but there was no time to lose. He must be off at once if he expected to catch the train from Haysville.
“I’ll let you hear from me, Marion, in some way,” he whispered gratefully. “And if anything has happened to Dollie, you can count on me. I’ll never forget you, Marion, you are such a friend to a fellow!”
“Take care of yourself in New York, Bert,” said the girl, tremblingly, “and who knows what may happen in that lovely big city?”
“Good-by, Marion,” answered Bert, “I’m sure something good must happen.”
He darted away and Marion went back to the house. There was not a sign of her sister’s returning.
Suddenly Marion made a discovery that nearly turned her brain. Every article belonging to Dollie’s Sunday wardrobe was missing.
In other words, she had dressed herself in her best when she went, and this fact was significant even to a girl like Marion.
Darting downstairs, the frightened girl awoke her father and mother.
“Dollie has gone! She has run away!” she cried in agony. “Oh, father, come quick and perhaps we can find her!”