“Billy! Who could steal our little girl? I cannot think it. She’s gone with some of the children to watch the fire.” Mrs. Bennett’s words were braver than her face, for in her heart she felt Billy was right, though she wondered why.
“They’ve stolen her, all right. I don’t know why, but I know who,—it’s the Ha’nt people!” Billy panted, coming out of the Lodge.
“O Billy!” Jean gasped, fear for the little, delicate girl in that eery place lending sympathy to her voice.
“Are you sure, my boy? I’ll go with you—”
“No, no, mother! This is business for only Bouncer and me.” He caught up the cut handkerchief and called the dog before his mother could hinder. “Find her, Bouncer! Find May Nell! Sic ’em!” he shouted, and set off heedless of his mother’s continued protestations, after the bounding dog.
“You can send some one after us, a man—not you, not either of you,” he called back over his shoulder, and was soon out of sight.
Jean was for following in spite of Billy’s commands; but Mrs. Bennett, full of apprehension, insisted that the girl should go with her; and the two set out in search of help.