“Well, ye did right to come straight to me, Miss Janet. It's me that can find out, if anybody can, and it's glad I am to help you. Just you stay here—make yourself at home while I run down and see some of the boys. I'll not be long—and don't be afraid I'll let on about it.”
He seized his overcoat and departed. Presently the sun, glinting on the sheets of tin, started Janet's glance straying around the shop, noting its disorderly details, the heaped-up stovepipes, the littered work-bench with the shears lying across the vise. Once she thought of Ditmar arriving at the office and wondering what had happened to her.... The sound of a bell made her jump. Mr. Tiernan had returned.
“She's gone with him,” said Janet, not as a question, but as one stating a fact.
Mr. Tiernan nodded.
“They took the nine-thirty-six for Boston yesterday morning. Eddy Colahan was at the depot.”
Janet rose. “Thank you,” she said simply.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I'm going to Boston,” she answered. “I'm going to find out where she is.”
“Then it's me that's going with you,” he announced.
“Oh no, Mr. Tiernan!” she protested. “I couldn't let you do that.”