“Here’s the stand,” Tavia said, “but it’s closed!”
“Is there no other place?” asked Dorothy in distress.
“The one at the depot, but that, too, may be closed between trains,” replied Tavia. “Had we better try it?”
“Oh, yes; we must. I can never go in the school building, until I know what it all means.”
“We cannot skate over there. Let us call to Ned that we will be back presently. Better not excite any more suspicion.”
Tavia funnelled her hands to her lips, and gave the message to those on ahead, and, with the order to “fetch them some good things” the ways parted.
Skates over their arms the two girls hurried along. Neither spoke for some moments. Then Dorothy broke the silence.
“Of course you have not heard yet from Nat, Tavia?”
“Only that first letter that I showed you. Surely if anything were wrong he wouldn’t have written in that monkey-strain.”
“And I have not heard from father. Well, if it is only money, it cannot be such a great disgrace,” and Dorothy’s sigh belied her words.