ink much about her,--for a good many children travel alone
between stations on the shore road. But, somehow, I don't think that
child went to New York,--no, I don't think she did."

"Where did she get off?" asked Mr. Maynard, eagerly.

"Ah, that I don't know. You see, the summer crowds are travelling now
and I don't notice individuals much."

"Can't you tell by your tickets?" asked Mr. Bryant.

"No, sir; I don't see's I can. You know, lots of people _did_ go to New
York on my train, and so, I've lots of New York tickets, but of course I
couldn't tell if I had hers. And yet,--seems to me,--just seems to
me,--that child got off at a way station."

"Then," said Mr. Maynard, with a businesslike air, "I must telephone or
telegraph or go personally to every way station between Seacote and New
York. It's a strange case. I can only think my daughter became suddenly
demented; I can think of no other reason for her conduct. Can you,
Jack?"

"No, Ed, I can't. And yet, Marjorie is a child who always does
unexpected things. Some crotchet or whimsey of her childish mind _might_
account for this strange freak, quite naturally."

"I can't see how. But we will do what we can. Good-day, Mr. Fischer, and
thank you for your help and interest."

CHAPTER X

JESSICA BROWN

Meantime, where was Marjorie?

To go back to where we left her, in the railroad train, she had fallen
asleep from utter exhaustion of nerve and body.

But her nap was of short duration. She woke with a start, and found, to
her surprise, that she was leaning her head against somebody's shoulder.

She looked up, to see the red-faced man gravely regarding her, though he
smiled as their eyes met.

"Feel better, little miss?" he said, and again Marjorie felt a strange
repulsion, though he spoke kindly enough.

Her mind was bewildered, she was nervous and frightened, yet she had a
positive conviction that she ought not to talk to this strange man. She
did not like his face, even if his voice was kind.

"Yes, thank you," she said, in distantly polite tones, and again she
squeezed herself over toward the window, and away from her seatmate. She
sat up very straight, trying to act as grown-up as possible, and then
the train stopped at a large station. There were crowds of people
hurrying and scurrying about on the platform, and Marjorie was almost
sure she had reached Jersey City, where she knew she must change for New
York.

She wanted to inquire, but t