Although they made a thorough canvass of all the homes in the neighborhood which contained familiars, or possible familiars, of the missing Roger, their quest was unsuccessful. No one seemed to have seen the missing youngster that day, and Nat and Tavia were forced to admit that, so far, their mission had failed.
“You are not going to give up yet, Nat?” cried Tavia quickly, as Nat started to turn the nose of the Fire Bird toward home. “Why, we have not even begun to look!”
Nat shut off the power and regarded his companion in perplexity.
“It seems to me we have made not only a beginning, but an ending, as well,” he protested. “I can’t think of another place where the boy might be, and I thought perhaps we had better go back and see if they have heard anything at The Cedars. If he is back there, safe and sound, we are having all our trouble and worry for nothing.”
“Oh, please don’t go back yet,” begged Tavia. “I have an idea, Nat,” she added, with sudden eagerness. “If Roger has the notion that Joe has taken a train from the North Birchlands station, what would be more natural than for him to head stationwards himself?”
“Brilliant mind!” ejaculated Nat, manipulating the car into another right-about-face. “We will proceed to the station immediately.”
“But not by the main road, Nat,” urged Tavia. “Through the woods, by that old wagon road, don’t you remember?”
Nat regarded her as though he thought she might have gone temporarily insane.
“But, my dear girl, why——” he began, but Tavia impatiently interrupted him.
“Oh, you men are so stupid!” she cried. “You never can think of anything without a map to help you. Can’t you see that Roger, hoping to escape attention, would take the path through the woods, rather than go by the main thoroughfare?”