breathing to listen.

CHAPTER XXIII

Larry Donovan jumped to the door.

But it was Mr. Wells' grim face that appeared in the circle of light
and his grimmer voice that asked harshly:

"What's the matter? What's all this disturbance through the building,
Donovan? Every door is open and there's a general turmoil."

They faced him indignantly, fellow tenants and janitor. Each had had
some experience with him that had been more unpleasant than pleasant.
All of them knew that he disliked Mary Rose, that he had complained to
the agents because she lived in the basement with the Donovans. Each
of them resented the selfishness that had brought him down to make
another complaint when all of them were so worried and anxious. It was
Bob Strahan who put some of this feeling into words.

"No doubt you'll be glad to hear that Mary Rose, the little girl who
has been such a nuisance to you, has disappeared?" he said
sarcastically.

Mr. Wells looked at him from under his shaggy eyebrows. "What do you
mean?" he snapped. "What do you mean?"

Everyone tried to tell him at once but Mrs. Donovan who was sobbing in
her apron and could not speak. Mr. Wells looked at her oddly.

"Nonsense!" he said when the story was clear to him. "She's locked
herself in somewhere as she did once before." He had heard of the time
the wind had slammed Mrs. Bracken's door and shut Mary Rose inside.
"She's fallen asleep."

"We've been in every flat but yours," Larry Donovan told him dully.

"Everyone but mine?" repeated Mr. Wells. "Well, she wouldn't go
there." Then he remembered that Mary Rose had been there in a
neighborly desire to be kind to him when he was ill, in a friendly wish
to tell him of her belief in him when he was under suspicion, and he
colored painfully. For all he knew she might be there now. She had a
habit of going when and where she pleased. That was what made her such
a nuisance in his eyes. "You can come and see for yourself," he said
sharply. "So far as I know there's no one there. Sako is out and I've
just come in."

They trooped eagerly after him up the stairs to the second floor, and
he had an unpleasant feeling that they expected to find Mary Rose
locked in his apartment, a prisoner by his orders. Hadn't Mary Rose
herself told him that he was suspected of doing cruel things? Well, he
didn't care what they thought, he muttered to himself as he put his key
in the lock. But he did care. Cross and