sisted on making the journey with the perturbed professor,
and the two set out together But on arriving they found only the
family, and the situation grew more and more perplexing. "I am sure
Edna is too conscientious to start back here without leave," said Mrs.
Evans. "She talked very cheerfully of her return."

"I am so afraid she is run over by a trolley car," said Agnes, in
distress.

"Or maybe she is lost and will be out in the dark night all alone,"
wept Dorothy. "O, papa, do try and find her." And the two men returned
to the city together.

No news at police stations of a lost or injured child, and to the
railway depots as a last resource they betook themselves. As Uncle
Justus was making his inquiries some one stood by listening. It was
one of the colored porters.

"'Scuse me, sah," he said, "but I b'leeves I seen de little lady you
all's inquirn' fo'. I 'members her on account of de 'casion of a
accident when she was on boa'd our train along o' her pa. I reckleck
she went to de telegraph office dis afternoon. I were gwine to call
myse'f to her remembers, but she slip out whilst I were busy, sah."

Yes, the man at the telegraph office did remember her. "A little
girl," he said, "yes, sir, wore a plain frock and a big hat. Yes, she
came here and got us to send a message."

"What was it?" asked Uncle Justus, eagerly. The man smiled. "As near
as I can recollect, it was, 'Louis has runned away.' It was sent to
Mr. William Morrison, Pasadena, California."

Uncle Justus looked puzzled. "I cannot understand why the message was
sent," he said, and after some further questions he concluded to
return home.

Meanwhile how fared it with Edna? At the instant that she fell upon
the stone step, in her flight from the cattle, the door opened and she
was lifted to her feet by a pleasant-looking boy, who, followed by
another, came out of the house.

"Why, little girl," said the boy who gave her his help, "you've cut
your lip; it is all bleeding. Did you fall down? That is too bad." And
he began tenderly to wipe off the stains of blood. "Come in and let
mother wash it off," he continued. "You call mother, Steve," he said
to the other boy, and Edna was drawn into the house whether or no.

Some one came swiftly down the hall. "What is the matter, Roger?" a
voice asked. "Why, I know this little girl. I have wondered for a long
time if I should see her again. It is little Edna Conway;" and,
looking up, Edna recognized her