Within ten minutes after the perusal of this very convincing indictment, Charlie Webster was on his way to Alix's home. He was quite out of breath when he presented himself at the front door, and his first words to Alix were: "While I'm getting my breath, Alix, you might prepare yourself for a shock." CHAPTER XX THE DISAPPEARANCE OF ROSABEL VICK Early the next morning, the telephone in township assessor Jordan's house rang. Annie Jordan was "setting" the breakfast table. She waited for the call to be repeated; she was not sure whether the bell had rung thrice or four times. Their call was "Party J, ring four." Four sharp rings came promptly. She looked at the kitchen clock. It lacked five minutes of seven. "Gee," she grumbled, "I didn't know anybody had to get up as early as I do." Taking down the receiver she uttered a sweet "hello," because, as she said, "You never know who's at the other end, and it's just as likely to be HIM as not." "Is that you, Annie? This is Mrs. Vick. May I speak to Rosabel?" "Why, Rosabel isn't here, Mrs. Vick." "What?" "Rosabel isn't here." There was a short silence. Then: "Are you joking with me, Annie? If she isn't up yet, please tell her to--" "Honest to goodness, Mrs. Vick, she's not here. I haven't seen her since day before yesterday." "She said she was going over to spend the night with you. She left home about four yesterday. Oh, my goodness, I--I--is there any one else she might have,--I'm sure she said you, though, Annie. Can you think of any one else? She took her nightdress--and things." "She always comes here, Mrs. Vick," said Annie, and felt a little chill creeping over her. "Still she may have gone to Mrs. Urline's. She and Hattie are good friends. Shall I call up and ask? I'll ring you up in a couple of minutes." That was the beginning. Within the hour the whole of Windomville was talking about the strange disappearance of the pretty daughter of Amos Vick, across the river. Old Jim House, the handy-man at Dowd's Tavern, inserted his shaggy head through the dining-room door and informed the editor of the Sun in a far from ceremonious manner that he had an "item" for the paper. "I'll be out as soon as I've finished breakfast," said Mr. Pollock. "Well, you can't say I didn't tell ye," said Jim, and withdrew his head. "No wonder there ain't ever anything worth readin' in that pickerune paper of his, Maggie," he growled to Margaret Slattery. "If ever I DO subscribe for a paper, it's goin' to be one that's got some git up and go about it. Some Injinapolis er Cincinnaty paper, b'gosh. There's Link Pollock settin' in there eatin' pancakes while a girl is bein' missed from one end of the township to the other. Bill Foss has--" "What girl?" demanded Margaret.