With trembling fingers Freda tore open the envelope. There was a single slip of paper inside and on it was written in the hand of the station agent:
“If you would do your mother a service come to Wickford Junction at once.”
“Wickford Junction!” gasped Freda, as the messenger boy rode away. “Why, how did mother get there? That’s in the opposite direction from Lamberton. Oh, there must have been some accident, and she has been taken there! I must go to her!”
Hastily Freda looked in her purse. She had barely money enough for the ticket, but she would go. On eager and anxious feet she sped toward the railroad depot. It was getting much darker.
“Oh, Mr. Burke!” Freda gasped, when she saw the agent behind his little wicket gate, “I’ve got to go to Wickford Junction. Mother is there.”
“She is, Freda? Why I sold her a ticket to Lamberton this morning.”
“I know. But there must have been some accident. I just got a message from Wickford Junction.”
“I know, for I wrote it down. The person wouldn’t give any name, but I’m sure it wasn’t your mother.”
“No, it couldn’t have been! She’s hurt!”