“Yes’m—he went after you, ma’am—with the runabout. He thought you was lost and he took on so—not knowing which way to go at all—and he sent James the other way to look for you—an’ there was burglars—”
“What?”
“There was someone entered the house an’ has gone away an’ all Miss Mary’s things out of her bureau is all over the bed—”
The story of the afternoon’s events was quickly extracted from the excited servant, prompted by Carl and the Jap. Mr. Temple, having grown anxious about the prolonged absence of his wife and daughter, had started out in the runabout in quest of them. The butler had been sent in another direction and shortly thereafter one of the maids had heard footsteps on the floor above. Thinking that Mrs. Temple must have returned, she went upstairs when, to her terror, a frightful-looking man brushed past her and went down the back stairs. She had screamed, and Carl and Kio had both come to her, but a search of the house and grounds had not discovered the burglar. The screen in the pantry window was ripped away, and Kio volunteered the suggestion that the “honorable burglar gentleman” had made his exit through it.
A systematic search of all the rooms by Mrs. Temple and the patrol revealed no loss or evidence of ransacking except that in Mary’s room the contents of the top bureau drawer were disheveled and some trinkets and an upset box lay upon the bed.
“It looked as if they were interrupted,” said Roy.
“They took my class pin,” said Mary, running over the things. “Oh, isn’t that a shame! I don’t care what else they took—that’s the only thing I care about! Oh, I think they were too mean for anything! It was my class pin!” She was crying a little.
“It wasn’t worth very much, dear,” said her mother.
“It isn’t that,” said the girl; “you don’t understand. I thought as much of it as you boys do of those badges.”
“I understand,” said Westy.