scolded Betty. "And, what's more, Esther, however much Libble may talk of eloping, she hasn't done it this time. All her clothes are here, and her shoes and her hat. Here's her purse on the dresser, too."
"I never thought of looking to see if her clothes were here," confessed Esther. "But then, where is she, Betty?"
"That's what I mean to find out," announced Betty, with more confidence than she felt. "Come on, Esther. And don't trip on your kimono or walk into anything."
They tiptoed out into the wide hall and had reached the head of the beautiful carved staircase when they saw a dim form coming toward them.
Esther nearly shrieked aloud, but Betty put a hand over her mouth in time.
"Who—who, who-o-o are you?" stammered Betty, her heart beating so fast it was painful.
"Betty!" Bob stifled a gasp. "For the love of Mike! what are you doing at this time of night?"
"Esther's here—we're hunting for Libbie," whispered Betty. "She isn't in her room."
"So that's it!" For some reason unknown to the girls Bob seemed to be vastly relieved. "I was just going after Mr. Littell," he added.
"But Libbie is lost! Maybe she is sick," urged Betty.
