“This morning I ran over to see her; found her mother in tears, and a trained nurse looking after her and—” John Hale stopped and pulled out a crumpled note—“here, read for yourself,” and tossed it to him.
Latimer scanned the few lines:
Dear Mother:
Nurse Phelps will spend a few days with you in my absence. Have run off for that promised change. Don’t worry, darling.
Polly.
“Well?” he asked as he returned the note.
“Mrs. Davis told me that she had wished Polly to take a vacation for some time and visit their cousin, Mrs. Paul Davis, at Markham, Virginia. She believed Polly had gone there.” John Hale paused. “I’ve just talked with Mrs. Paul Davis on the long distance telephone. Polly is not with her, and not expected.”
Latimer regarded John Hale in bewilderment. “Then where has she gone?” he questioned.
“I have no idea.” Again John Hale played with his walking stick.
Latimer considered him gravely. “What am I to infer?” he asked. “That Polly has disappeared?”