le," said Carl when they were on the street again.

"It is indeed," his father replied, looking up and down irresolutely.

"Are you worried? What do you think can have happened to her?"

"I don't know, my son; yes, I am very much worried. I wish William was
not away from home. I think, perhaps, the best thing I can do is to
see Roberts." Roberts was a detective, and Carl began to feel that the
situation was serious.

There was nothing for Aunt Zelie and Bess to do that long evening but
wait and try to be patient. Mr. Hazeltine promised to telephone the
moment he discovered the least clue to her whereabouts.

And where was Louise?

While she and John were playing checkers she overheard Mr. Armstrong
talking to his wife about a book which he evidently was very anxious
to have, and which he seemed unable to find either at the library or
the bookstores.

At the first mention of the title Louise was sure she had seen it on
their own library table at home, and remembered hearing her father and
uncle discuss it. "I know father will lend it to him," she thought,
and was about to say so to Mr. Armstrong, when she recollected that
Uncle William had borrowed it.

"I am sure he has finished it," she thought, "and at any rate he has
gone to Chicago. I'll go home and ask Aunt Zelie to let me get it."
Eager to do this kindness, she ran off as soon as the game was
finished.

But everybody was out. James was at work in the cellar; Mandy so
occupied with her pantry shelves that she did not know when Louise
passed through the kitchen; Sukey had taken Helen and Carie for a
walk, and Aunt Zelie was at a lecture. What should she do?

She went up to the star chamber, hoping to find Carl and coax him to
go with her, but he was not there. She wanted very much to get that
book for Mr. Armstrong. He wished to make use of it in a lecture he
expected to give on Monday night, so it was important that he should
have it as soon as possible. She knew the way to Uncle William's
perfectly, but she and Bess never went so far by themselves.

"I can go all the way on the cars," she said to herself. "Nothing
could happen to me, and I can't ask Aunt Zelie when she isn't here."
Trying to satisfy her conscience in this way, she found her
pocket-book and started out. It happened that she saw nobody she knew
as she waited on the corner for the car, feeling very independent.

The afternoon was cold and cloudy, and the ride seemed longer than
usual.