“They were really very polite,” Cora assured him, “and I haven’t the slightest dread about their questions. It seems to me, now, that we all ought to do what we can to trace the girls. From what Bess just told me I am afraid they are running about at night in lonely and dangerous places. And bad as their lot might have been, with their aunt, that was safer than these night escapades.”
“True—very true, little sister,” said Jack with his usual good spirits, “at the same time if they have committed—we will call it an indiscretion, in trying earrings in their ears, it might be just as well to give them a chance. No use running them into the very teeth of the law.”
That was exactly how Cora felt about it. “Well,” she said, as she picked up her fan and other little belongings, preparatory to going indoors, “we will see what comes of my official investigation. Perhaps, when the detectives have finished questioning me, they will be able to go to a telephone and call the girls home. I have always heard that detectives do such wonderful things.”
“Well, this time, sis, I will be at home when they call, unless something very unforeseen happens.”
Jack pushed the bolt on the heavy door, and Cora went over the first floor of the house, attending to the duties, with which her mother, upon her departure for the city, had entrusted her.
Then, handing the silver to Jack, she put out the lights, and bade him an affectionate good-night.
[CHAPTER XI—ANDY’S WARNING]
The parlor maid tapped at Cora’s door. Gentle as was the touch, it awakened the girl, who answered quickly.
“Miss,” said the maid, “there is a little boy downstairs who says he must see you at once. He simply won’t take no for an answer.”
“A little boy?” repeated Cora, sleepily. “Why, it’s only six o’clock!”