"We'll have to wait till daylight."
"Yes, bother it all. They may be miles away by that time."
"I doubt it. I wouldn't wonder if they hide right around here. There are lots of good places, and they know that the hue and cry will be so hot that they would be caught if they traveled."
"That's so. Maybe we can find them, after all."
"Let's hope so. Well, we can do no more good here. Let's go in."
Peggy met them at the door. She seemed wildly excited over something.
"The mail rider's just been here," she exclaimed, "and listen to this letter. It's from a woman living near New York. She just got back from Europe and in an old newspaper she read an account of our sky cruise.
"She is certain that The Wren is her daughter and gives a description of her that tallies in every particular. She said that Wren was caught out in a heavy thunderstorm and sought refuge in a gipsy camp, as she learned afterward from a farmer who had seen her. She hunted high and low but has never since had word of the child. Her right name is Sylvia Harvey. Mrs. James Harvey is her mother, and she's rushing here as fast as a train will carry her."
"If it is really Sylvia Harvey then her mother has found her only to lose her again," sighed Jess.
"Don't say that," said Mr. Parker, coming into the room at that moment, "we'll leave no stone unturned to find her."