“Well, so she may have done. It is even possible that he may have asked her not to mention the meeting, though I scarcely think that likely. But whatever happened, I am sure the child was not to blame, and I do not believe it has any connection with her disappearance. Of course, it may become necessary to tell her brother what we have heard. We have no right to keep anything back under the circumstances, but I always trust my instincts, and I liked Gretel from the first moment I saw her. I am positive that girl is not in any way to blame for what has happened.” More than once Mrs. Cranston repeated those words to herself during the hours of the long, wakeful night. Geraldine cried herself to sleep at last, but her companion lay awake for hours, thinking with an aching heart of the girl she had grown to love, over whose disappearance there hung such a dark curtain of mystery. Geraldine was awake again almost as soon as it was light, begging to be allowed to get up and go down-stairs. “Mr. Chester promised to telephone the first thing in the morning,” she pleaded feverishly, “and I want to be there when the message comes.” Mrs. Cranston, seeing the uselessness in trying to keep the girl in bed, yielded to her persuasions, and Geraldine was on her way down-stairs when the clocks were striking five. But early as she was, some one else was before her, for on entering the library she found Jerry curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. At Geraldine’s exclamation of surprise, her twin sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Hello!” he said, staring about him sleepily. “Oh, it’s you, Geraldine. I must have just dropped off for a minute.” “How long have you been down here?” his sister inquired. “I don’t know exactly,” answered Jerry, with a yawn. “I kept waking up all the time, and I got tired of listening to Paul snore, so thought I might as well get up and come down here, just in case the telephone should ring, you know.” Geraldine sat down on the sofa and laid her head on her brother’s shoulder. “That’s what I came for, too,” she said. “It’s only just five, but Mrs. Cranston said I might get up if I liked. After all, I remember there is a telephone switch in Mrs. Chester’s bedroom, but I’m glad I came, anyway, now you’re here, too. Oh, Jerry dear, I’m so terribly unhappy. Gretel is my best friend, and I’m sure something dreadful has happened to her.” Jerry and Geraldine were not the only people in the house who listened anxiously for the sound of the telephone bell, but it was eight o’clock before the long-expected message came, and then, alas! it brought no good news. The police had been working on the case all night, but as yet they had found no clue. Indeed, there was very little to go upon. It seemed as if Gretel had been swallowed up in the earth. Sorely against her will, but feeling it the only thing to be done under the circumstances, Mrs. Chester repeated to her husband the story Jimmy Fairfax had told her.