The minutes passed slowly away and it seemed like years before the train crossed the Red River and Robert decided that it was safe to go back to the car where Marie was and see her. He found Marie all anxious and nervously awaiting his arrival. She flew into his arms and seemed the happiest woman in the world and Robert was too happy for words. They sat there and talked of their future plans until after midnight.
Marie told Robert that she knew if her father found out she was eloping, he would make every effort to stop her and prevent their marriage, as she was not of age, and he was anxious that she complete her education. Robert asked her if she had any regrets in the steps she was taking, and she told him she did not, that if she did have, she would never have started. She thought it was wonderful that Robert had been able to make money so rapidly and was very happy that he had stuck to the Bible and studied so hard, and now was getting his reward for his faith and hard work. She expressed her supreme confidence in him and the work that he intended to do. Robert hoped it would be a beautiful sunshiny Sunday morning when they arrived in St. Louis, so that they could be married and then proceed to New York.
Marie seemed very enthusiastic over the prospect of getting to St. Louis. Robert had a little surprise for her, and she asked him to tell her what it was. But he said, she must wait until they arrived in St. Louis. "Robert, just suppose the train should be wrecked and I should be killed, or something should happen that I would never see you again, don't you think you had better tell me about the surprise now?" He said, "No, there is not going to be any wreck. Good luck is following us, and the surprise will keep until tomorrow morning." She said, "Robert, I may not be able to sleep. I don't think I can sleep anyway, after all this excitement and happiness and everything that is to come in the future." Robert knew that he couldn't sleep either, but he would go up to his car, lie down and try to get some rest before they arrived in St. Louis the next morning. They agreed to meet early in the morning and go back into the dining car for breakfast before they arrived in St. Louis.
Robert returned to his berth and tried to rest, but found that he couldn't sleep. He thought over what Marie had said about—"suppose the train should be wrecked, or something should happen that you should never see me again." He thought that nothing could happen to separate Marie from him, but just the same it was the thought that she said something might happen. He felt lonesome being separated from Marie. She was two cars back, but he felt that the good God who had endowed him with faith would protect Marie, and that no harm would come to her; that there was no danger of a wreck on the "Sunshine Special" and that there was sunshine waiting for Marie and himself. In the wee small hours of the morning, Robert dozed off and had a few hours of sound sleep. He arose early and dressed. About 8 o'clock, he hurried back to Marie's car, to take her to breakfast. When he arrived at her berth, he found it empty. He went back to the dining-car to look for Marie, but couldn't find her there, and then went on thru to the end of the train, but was unable to locate Marie. The Pullman porter told him that he hadn't seen her that morning and the last he saw of her was when Robert was talking to her in the berth late that night. Robert then searched the train again from one end to the other and became uneasy and anxious about Marie. He returned again to her car and had the porter look for her baggage, and after looking thru the car, found that it was gone. Robert was now almost frantic and could not imagine what could have happened to her, because her baggage was gone. The porter assured him that there had been no hold-up of the train that night and that nothing unusual had happened. He had been up all night helping people get on and off at different stations but had seen nothing of Marie at any time. The train conductor was notified and the Pullman-car conductor was told. Both of them searched the train from one end to the other, and nowhere could Marie be found.
Robert did not explain to the conductor or the porter that they were to be married in St. Louis that morning. The conductor told him that it seemed plain that in some way during the night, she must have left the train because her baggage was gone. Robert was now almost in a state of collapse. He imagined all kinds of things which might have happened to Marie. Thought that she might have become insane during the night, and had thrown her baggage out of the window, and jumped out. Thought her father might in some way have found out about her plans and had some officer or someone secreted on the train who had taken Marie off at some point enroute. But no matter what he thought or imagined, it was no relief to his mind because he did not know where Marie was. All his future happiness was blasted in a moment.
By the time the search was over, the train was nearing St. Louis. Robert began to think of all the things he could and must do to try and find Marie. The first thing he thought of was to wire Mr. Kennelworth, and have him make a search and ascertain whether her father or mother knew anything about what had happened. The railroad conductor and Pullman conductor had tried to cheer Robert up and assure him that nothing seriously wrong could have happened to her, and that for some unknown reason she must have left the train at some station during the night without anyone knowing it, because they were sure that she could not have jumped out or fallen from the window without someone knowing about it and they thought there was nothing to worry about. Robert had decided on sending telegrams and making every search possible to locate her. He put his hand in his inside pocket to find a pencil and draw out a wallet. In the pocket was an envelope addressed to him in Marie's handwriting. He did not know where it had come from or how it could have gotten into his pocket, but he hurriedly tore the envelope open and this is what he read:
June 5, 1927—3 A.M.
Dearest Robert:
According to your faith, be I unto you. Love will always have faith, understand and wait. Time proves all things. You will get everything you want. I will come to you when I mean the most and your need for love is the greatest.
Lovingly always,
Marie.
When Robert finished reading this little note, tears were streaming down his face. He was frantic. He knew that the mysterious letter was written by Marie's own hand and must have been written on the train and for some unknown reason she was leaving him. He at once thought of his great faith in her, and his faith in God and the future as he read. He wondered what this could mean: "According to your faith, be I unto you—love will always have faith, understand and wait." Robert thought, "How can I understand, how can I wait, when I left her only a few hours ago supremely happy anticipating being married a few hours later in St. Louis, and going on to New York to spend our future lives together. What in the world can she mean by, 'time proves all things.'" Time had proved his faith and love for her. She had had faith in him and had encouraged him; had put up the $400.00 she had saved, not to make money for herself but to try to help him. She told him that she didn't want the money, but wanted him to use it in any way that would help him. Then he pondered the next line where she said: "You will get everything you want." He thought, "My God, there is only one thing that I do want, there is only one thing in this world that means anything to me and that is my Marie, and where will I find her." Reading the next line over and over, "I will come to you when I mean the most and your need for love is the greatest."