For a whole day there came no news of the missing boy. No one could be met who had seen him or heard of him. Neither in Maltby nor up the river, nor in the country roads round, could any tidings of him be found. Towards evening those who remained anxiously behind began to entertain fresh fears. Had the boy been merely running away, some one would surely have seen him or heard of him. Had anything worse happened to him? Mr Loman and the police-inspector paid a hurried visit to the boathouse. Had the boy been there? No, no one had been there for two days. They followed the paths through the woods, asking at every cottage and stopping every passer-by. But no, no one knew anything. No boat had passed through the lock, no passenger on foot had gone past it. The night came, and with it most of the searchers returned, dejected and worn-out. The school was strangely silent. Not a sound could be heard in the passages or class-rooms. Nothing but the heavy rain, which now began to fall dismally upon the roof and windows of the old school-house. Boys who heard it shuddered, and their minds went out into the dark wet night after their lost schoolfellow, wherever he might be. Where was he now? they wondered, and how was he faring? "Has Greenfield returned?" asked the Doctor, as about ten o'clock the masters and Mr Loman met for the mockery of supper in the head master's study. "No," said Mr Jellicott. "I have just been inquiring. He has not returned." "Strange," said the Doctor; "which direction did he take?" "Up towards Grandham," said Wraysford; "we went together as far as the cross roads, and then I went off on the Dallingford road and back by the river." "He ought to be back now," said the Doctor, looking concerned. "There is no railway or coach from Grandham," suggested Mr Rastle; "he would have to walk back most likely." "And in this rain!" said the Doctor. "Perhaps," said Wraysford, "he may have heard something." It was a cheery suggestion. If it could but be true! "He would have telegraphed," said Mr Loman. "There is no telegraph office there," said the Doctor; "the Grandham people have to come here or to Dallingford to telegraph." They waited an hour, but Oliver did not return. The night became more and more stormy. The bleak February wind whistled among the chimneys, and the hard rain beat pitilessly at the windows and on the gravel walk outside. The Doctor rose and pulled up the blind and looked out. It was a dreary prospect. The rain had turned to sleet, and the wind was growing fast to a gale. The trees round the house creaked and groaned beneath it. "It is a dreadful night," said the Doctor. "Those two poor boys!"