“I am sorry for that young English girl,” mused Mr. Gordon.  “She is fairly eaten up with the idea of getting in touch with her aunt.  Good reason, too.  She has told me all about it.  She carries a letter from her dead father to the woman and he begged the girl to be sure to put it into his sister’s hands.  Family troubles, Jack.”

“Well, come on in.  You’re here without your hat.  Want to get your death of cold?” growled Mr. Canary.

The young folks did not dream at this time that nature was doing her best to make it impossible for Ida Bellethorne to reach New York by Sunday morning when the steamship San Salvador would leave her dock.  It was, however, the general topic of conversation during the evening.  When bed-time came they went gaily to bed, not even Betty doubting the feasibility of their getting to the train on the morrow.

Her uncle, however, put his head out of the door again when the others had gone chamberward and seeing the shining, icy waste of the Overlook, muttered with growing anxiety: 

“Can it be done?”

CHAPTER XXIV

TWENTY MILES OF GRADE

Ida slept in the room with Betty and Bobby that night.  Betty had confided to her chum, as well as to Uncle Dick, the outcome of the mystery of her locket.  Because of Ida’s information, Uncle Dick had assured his niece they would recover the trinket.

“If Mrs. Staples is not a dishonest woman, she shades that character pretty closely.  There are people like that—­people who think that a found article is their own unless absolutely claimed by the victim of the loss.  A rather prejudiced brand of honesty to say the least.”

The two Shadyside girls made much of Ida Bellethorne on this evening after they had fore-gathered in the bedroom.  Just think! her Aunt Ida might take her to South America.  Ida already had traveled by boat much farther than even Betty had journeyed by train.

“Although I am not at all sure how my aunt will meet me,” the English girl said.  “She was very angry with my father.  She wasn’t fair to him.  She is impulsive and proud, and maybe she will think no better of me.  But I must give her father’s letter and see what comes of it.”

The main difficulty was to get to New York in time to deliver the letter before the San Salvador sailed.  When the girls awoke very early and saw a sliver of moon shining low in the sky, they bounced up with glad if muffled cries, believing that everything was all right.  The storm had ceased.  And when they pushed up the window a little more to stick their heads out they immediately discovered something else.

“Goodness me!” gasped Bobby.  “It’s one glare of ice—­everything!  And so-o cold!  Ugh!” and she shivered, bundled as she was in a blanket robe.

First Betty and then Ida had to investigate.  The latter looked very mournful.