realize until she missed him—there were the demands made on her by the old ladies, who both suffered from bad dreams. During much of the night Betty's active mind insisted on going over and over the most trivial points of the day. Always she came back to the two mysteries that she could not discuss with the aunts: Who had put the single bar down, and who had milked the cow?
Breakfast was a sorry pretense the next morning, and Betty was glad to hurry out to the barn and feed and water the stock and milk the two cows. It was hard and heavy work and she was not skilled at it, and so took twice as long a time as Bob usually did. Then, when she had saddled Clover and changed to her riding habit, she sighted the mail car down the road and waited to see if the carrier had brought her any later news of her uncle. The Watterbys promptly sent her any letters that came addressed to her there.
There was no news, but the delay was fifteen minutes or so, and when Betty finally started for the Watterbys it was after nine o'clock. She had no definite plan beyond telephoning to her uncle and imploring him to come and help them hunt for Bob.
"Where could he be?" mourned poor Miss Hope, with maddening persistency. "We looked all over the farm, and yet where could he be?
