Just how to explain her daughter's danger pressed heavily upon him. He dared not picture Lon Cronk or the man Floyd had described. To gain a moment, he said: "I will, Dear; but only one of them is here. The other one--" "Which one is here?" "The boy, Sweetheart, our own Floyd." Although she was shaking like a leaf, Vandecar saw that she was not fainting, and when she struggled to be free he released her. She staggered a little, and said helplessly: "Then, why--why don't you bring--him to me?" "I will, if you'll sit down and let me tell you something." He knelt beside her and spoke tenderly: "Sweetheart, our children have been near us for months. They came to Ann and Horace--" Fledra Vandecar gave a glad little cry. "It was he, then, the pretty boy that prayed! Oh, Floyd, something told me! But you said he was here alone. Where is my girl?" "That's what I want to tell you, Fledra. Look at me, dear heart." The eyes, wandering first from his face, then to the door, fell upon him. They seemed to demand the truth, and he dared not utter a lie to her. "By some crooked work, which Everett and the squatter--" His words brought back Horace's story. A strange horror paled her cheeks and widened her eyes. "That man, the one who called himself her father, took her back to Ithaca. Is that what you wanted to tell me?" As she attempted to rise, Vandecar pushed her gently back into the chair and said: "I'm going for her, Beloved, and Horace has already gone--Wait--wait!" Vandecar was at the door in an instant, and when he opened it Ann appeared, leading Floyd by the hand. Mrs. Vandecar's eyes fastened themselves upon the boy, and, when Ann pushed him toward her, she rose and held out her arms. Floyd was taller than she, and he stood considering her calmly, almost critically. He had been told by Miss Shellington that he would see his mother, and as he looked a hundred things tore through his mind in a single instant. This little woman, with fluttering white hands extended toward him, was his--his very own! He felt suddenly uplifted with a masculine desire to protect her. She looked so tiny, so frail! He was filled with strength and power, and so glad was his heart that it sang loudly and thumped until he heard a buzzing behind his ears. Suddenly he blurted out: "I'd a known ye were mine if I'd a met ye any place!" Governor Vandecar hurriedly left them and telephoned for a special train to take him to Ithaca. He entered his library and summoned Katherine. He talked long to her in low tones, and when he had finished he put his arm about the weeping girl and said softly: "And you'll come with us, Katherine, dear, and help me bring back my girl? I shall ask Ann to go with us." "Oh, uncle, dear, you know I will go! And, oh, how glad I am that you've found them!" "Thank you, child. Now, if you'll run away and make the necessary preparations, we'll start immediately." CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR