“I’m sure of it.” Anne arose and moved to the desk, returning with a letter which she dropped into Madge’s lap. “Last week this came from the Alton Chemical Company—one of the firms Father negotiated with. You see the letter is signed by the president of the firm—G. H. Brownell—and he says he is coming here soon to see me about the formula. If only I had it! I’m sure he would pay me a good figure for it. What became of the thing?”
“Ask me something easy. You searched the laboratory I suppose?”
“A dozen times. I haven’t given up though. I know I’ll find it somewhere and I intend to stay here until I do.”
“I wish I could help,” Madge returned. “Aunt Maude says I have a talent for finding lost things. She always calls on me when anything is missing.”
“Then consider that I’m calling on you now. We might start turning the house upside down this minute!”
Madge’s eye had fallen upon the clock and she sprang to her feet with an exclamation of dismay.
“The search must wait until another day. Goodness! That clock must have skipped an hour or so! Aunt Maude will think I drowned in the lake. I must run. Mind if I wear your dress?”
“Of course not. It’s only an old rag.”
At the door, Madge hesitated.
“See here,” she said bluntly, “my aunt will be put out because you feel you can’t stay at the lodge. If anything should go wrong here—”