Dorothy turned to the roadway. She must find Edna and Tavia, and learn if they had taken that little dog.
Along the leaf-strewn roads she met numbers of the other students. She feared to ask them if they had seen Tavia, for it was now not easy to tell friend from foe, and the least hint of suspicion might lead to unpleasant gossip.
Once she stopped and called, for she was almost sure she had heard Edna’s bubbling laugh, but no answer was sent back. On towards the village she hurried. Yes, there they were, coming along, heads very close together, but there was no Ravelings in sight.
Dorothy drew a breath of relief. She was glad they had played no trick on poor Jacob, for he was a good friend to the girls, and always willing to take a message to town, or to do any little service that often meant much to them.
“Where have you been?” Dorothy confronted Tavia and Edna.
“To the post-office,” replied Tavia innocently.
Edna was laughing. This made Dorothy suspicious.
“One would think it was Valentine’s day,” she said. “Whose birthday is it, Tavia?”
“Nobody’s. But you know, Doro, I did owe a lot of letters, and I’ve now gotten them off my mind—my poor, over-burdened mind!” she sighed, mockingly.
“Do you girls know anything about the little white dog?” Dorothy asked bluntly.