t and broke into sobbing.

CHAPTER XIII.

BILLIE AND THE DOCTOR.

Several things had to be done before any steps could be taken to find
Phoebe's father. First Alberdina must be roundly scolded for her
carelessness about the clothes and then placated with a ten dollar bill
to compensate her for her loss. There must be lunch prepared for hungry
travelers, and Phoebe, herself, must be given food and made to rest. In
the meantime they questioned her concerning her father's movements. He
had left the cabin with his zither the morning of the day before and had
not been seen since, except when he had appeared at the camp and cut
Alberdina's bonds.

"Has he ever stayed away before at night?" asked Dr. Hume.

"No, never. When he is not weaving baskets or carving, he is very
restless and often is away for hours, but he always comes back before
bed time. He never forgets me. That is why I am so uneasy now," she went
on, clasping and unclasping her hands in the agony of her uncertainty.

"Phoebe," said the doctor, "what is it that gives you strength to do
your day's work, even if it means walking across a mountain in the hot
sun carrying a heavy basket?"

Phoebe lowered her eyes and a flush spread over her sunburned face.

"I forgot," she said. "I was so unhappy that I forgot. It has helped me,
oh, so many times when we have had no money. Many times we have been
snowed in on the mountain without food and it has always come. It saved
us from the Lupos. I was lonesome and it brought me friends." She
glanced at the girls busily preparing lunch and at Ben and Percy talking
in low voices on the porch.

"Don't you think it will help you now?"

"It has left me. I can't find it," replied poor Phoebe. "It is because I
am so frightened. It never comes if you are frightened."

"My child," said the good doctor, "you are worn out. You must have lunch
and take a good rest. In the meantime we will do everything we can to
find your father. Perhaps he has lost his way and is wandering in the
woods somewhere."

"No," said Phoebe, shaking her head miserably, "he never loses his way.
He knows the trails better than I do myself."

The doctor himself brought Phoebe a tray of lunch. She was ravenously
hungry.

"The poor little thing hasn't eaten for hours," he thought, glancing at
her covertly, as he returned with a basin of water, a soft towel and
Miss Campbell's private bottle of eau de cologne. When she had finished
eating, h