“Well, think of all the places out of town then, find out where she is, and I’ll get an automobile and go after her. Little fool! She knew she was making me a lot of trouble. She did this on purpose, I’ll wager. But she’ll get paid back double for all she does. Just let her wait.” Eugene was stamping up and down suggesting places to call, while his wife with more and more agitated voice continued to call up numbers. “I’m almost sure that operator is Jenny Lowe,” she said with her hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone, “if it is she’ll tell it everywhere that I’ve called all these numbers. She’s probably listening in.” “Jenny Lowe be hanged!” said Eugene. “We’ve got to find Joyce! Look at the clock! It’s half past six. Call Aunt Whinnie’s.” Nannette called Aunt Whinnie’s but got no answer, and while she was still trying to get it Dorothea came panting back saying that Joyce hadn’t been heard of anywhere, and the teacher and the superintendent were just coming into the yard. Eugene went frowning to the front door and disposed of the new superintendent in short order saying that his cousin had been suddenly called away and he was not sure how soon she would return. She might be gone several days. He intimated that she had gone to visit a sick relative, but when the young man got out his pencil and note book and asked for her address he replied vaguely that he was not quite sure whether she would remain more than a few hours where she had gone and she might make several visits before her return. But the young superintendent was not one who was easily baffled and asked for all the addresses, whereupon Eugene was put to the trouble of making up an address. It was rather hard on him for he had been brought up not to tell lies, and he always tried to avoid deliberate ones, but this time he felt he was in a bad corner and had to get out somehow. The hand of his watch said a quarter to seven, and he must get rid of these callers. What in Sam Hill did this young upstart want of Joyce anyway? But the young upstart turned gravely away without imparting his business, and Eugene shut the door with unnecessary slamming, and went back to his wife: “We’ll just have to go over to the Judge’s and do the best we can. We’d better fix up some story about Joyce. Perhaps we can get around the old man. I’ll tell you, we’ve had an offer for the house and we want to close with it right away. Man going to Europe and wants to get this property fixed up for a relative to live in--How’ll that do? Then we can find a purchaser and get this house off our hands. I’d rather go back to Chicago anyway, wouldn’t you, and get out of this rotten town where everybody’s nose is in your business, and the minister thinks he owns the earth, and can boss it? I’d like to know what business of his it was to come after Joyce anyway? Doesn’t he think we can take care of our own relatives without his intervention.”