This explanation seemed plausible, and the grocer gave Mrs. Marlow her change--about nine dollars. "I'm glad you are so lucky," he remarked. "I shall be glad to have you come again--as long as the money lasts," he added, with a laugh. "Sure I made a good excuse. He'll never mistrust," said Mrs. Marlow to herself, as she went back to her room. "Now, Mrs. Rollins, you may come back as soon as you like." Mrs. Rollins was away three hours. She visited the locality mentioned in the note she had received, but could hear nothing of a boy being run over by the cars and having his leg broken. She went into a drug store, but neither the druggist nor his clerks had heard of any such accident. "Where can they have taken my boy?" she moaned. "If I could only find him, and have him brought home!" There seemed to be absolutely no clew. After a while she bethought her of the sick girl she had left behind. "If Grace wakes up she won't know what has become of me, and will feel frightened. I ought to have told her, or left word with Mrs. Marlow." Weary and disheartened, she went home and toiled up the stairs to her own room. "Where have you been, mother?" asked Grace, anxiously, "and what did you go out for?" Mrs. Rollins sank into a chair, and could not answer at first for very weariness. "What message did the telegraph boy bring you, mother?" "What do you know about the telegraph boy, Grace? Were you awake when I went out?" "No, mother. Mrs. Marlow told me." "She told you about a telegraph boy calling on me?" "Yes. I waked up and saw her in the room. She said you had gone out, and she thought the telegraph boy had brought you bad news." "So he did, Grace," said the widow, and she burst into tears. "What is it, mother? Anything about Rupert?" "Yes. Your poor brother has been run over by the cars and got his leg broken." "Did you see him? Where is he?" asked Grace, anxiously. "No. I couldn't find him. I went to where the note mentioned, but could not hear anything about him." "Perhaps he was taken to some hospital." "Yes, I didn't think of that. I am sure he will send me a message as soon as he gets a chance. I wish I knew where he is." Mrs. Marlow was aware that the widow had returned, but hesitated about going upstairs. She was afraid some questions might be asked that would involve her in trouble. Besides, Mrs. Rollins might discover the loss of the purse, and the evidence of Grace might expose her to suspicion. "Drat the child? I wish she hadn't waked up. Then I could deny that I had been in the room at all." But Mrs. Rollins did not have occasion to go to the bureau. She was absorbed in thoughts of Rupert. She did not know what course to take to get further knowledge of him. It seemed hard, but she could think of nothing except to wait for some message from him. All at once she heard a familiar step on the stairs. "It sounds like Rupert," said Grace, half-rising from the bed in her eagerness.