“She did go to him, and he said Lucille had asked for two weeks’ vacation, which he had given her, and Maggie didn’t want to tell him that Lucille had gone out to do some extra work, for fear he wouldn’t like it. He paid her by the week, and didn’t know she did outside work. Maggie thought then she would be back, but now it is five weeks and she hasn’t come back yet.” “And poor mother loved her so,” added Maggie huskily, as she re-entered the room, having left Blind Gilbert on his corner. “Do you think we could do anything towards finding her?” Dido asked eagerly. “I hardly see what you could do, unless you notify the police and advertise for her,” Dick replied, listlessly. He had enough girls on his mind now, with Penelope, the Park Mystery girl and Dido, and he did not feel anxious to add another to his already too large list. He felt satisfied to look after Penelope, and was desirous of assuming sole charge of her, but did not want any more. “I should say that she had received a better position somewhere, and that you will hear from her before long,” Dick added, encouragingly. “Oh, she would surely send for her clothes if she had,” Dido said, earnestly. “If you will tell us what to do--what is the best thing--we will try to do it; Maggie is so anxious to find her.” “I can easily do for you all that can be done,” Dick replied. “If you can give me a description of her, I will send it to Police Headquarters and have them search for her.” “She was slender, and had a lovely white complexion and blue eyes, and black hair,” Dido began, Richard writing it in a little notebook. “Was she tall or short?” he asked, pausing for a reply. “About my height--don’t you think so, Maggie? I’m five feet four and one-half inches.” “How was she dressed?” “She had on her black alpaca dress, and wore a round black turban, with a bunch of green grass on the back of it,” said Dido. “And she carried her light jacket along to wear home, ’cause mother thought it would be cold,” Maggie said, helping Dido along. “Lucille always had nicer dresses than I had. She was twenty-one, though she didn’t look it. I am older than she is.” CHAPTER IX. THE STRANGER AT THE BAR. Richard Treadwell sent a description of Maggie Williams’ missing sister to the police authorities, and also inserted a cautious but alluring personal in all the leading newspapers; still the missing Lucille did not return, and nothing was heard of her.