"Wasn't it mean for them to leave without notice? It will give _us_ a good day's work." "Yes," replied the second girl, "and napkin day, too. Weren't they in a hurry to get away, though? You'd think some one was after them!" A titter from the older girl was interpreted to mean that no one could possibly be after those spoken of. Then both girls picked up some odds and ends from different tables, and left the room. Jack's heart sank--if a boy's heart ever does anything like that. At least, his hope of finding the runaway girls was, for the time, shattered. He was instantly convinced that the persons to whom the waitresses referred, could be none other than those who were so ardently sought by the motor girls. He was also just as thoroughly convinced that the runaways had already started on a new trail, and were beyond his reach. Cora, Bess and Belle were in ecstacies over the antique settings of the big room, while Ed and Walter were doing what they could to emphasize the glories of a "side walk," as they termed the broad stones, in front of the fireplace. "Fine for fire crackers on a wet Fourth," said Walter foolishly. "Splendid for walnuts on a cold night," put in Ed with something like common sense. Jack slipped out unnoticed. He went directly to the inn office. "If only the girls had not yet left the place," he was hoping. "And to think that I should have let them slip through my fingers like that! Cora will begin to lose faith in me," he reflected. "When she finds out that I have not seen the detectives, and when she really identifies the hair as that of----" At the office he was informed that all the servants of Wayside Inn were in charge of the housekeeper, whose office he would find at the rear, near the pergola. Thither Jack betook himself. He found the office without any difficulty, but the housekeeper was very busy, and could not see him at once. The wait was vexatious, but Jack amused himself with noting the peculiar furnishings of the room, that served for an office. It looked more like a big clothes closet for white aprons and gingham aprons, while all sorts of towels were hung around in abundance. Maids came in and took white aprons, but the presence of a young man evidently prevented them from arranging the swiss ties and sashes there, so those who seemed in a hurry went out with freshly laundered articles on their arms. Several remarks that Jack overheard seemed to relate to the girls who had left recently, and although he was on the alert to gather any possible definite information, none was forthcoming. Finally the little window back of a shelf was raised, and the head of an elderly woman was framed therein. Jack stepped up to the "ticket office." "Are there two girls named Catron employed here?" he asked. "I have never had any help of that name," the woman replied, promptly, but politely. "Perhaps they have used some other name," ventured the young man, feeling decidedly ill at ease.