“Come with me, King,” said Cousin Jack, going to the telephone in the library.

Then he called up every house in Seacote where Marjorie could possibly have gone, and King helped by suggesting the names of acquaintances.

But no one could give any news of the little girl; no one whom they asked had seen or heard of her that afternoon.

Cousin Jack’s face grew very white, and his features were drawn, as he said:  “You stay here, Ed, with Helen and Ethel; King and I will go out for a bit.  Come, King.”

Kingdon said nothing; he snatched up his cap and went along silently by Mr. Bryant’s side, trying to keep up with his companion’s long, swift strides.

To the beach they went; it was not yet quite dark, but of course they saw no sign of Marjorie.

“Are you thinking she might have been washed away by the waves?” asked King, in a quivering voice.

“That’s all I can think of,” replied Mr. Bryant, grimly.

“But it isn’t likely, Cousin Jack.  Mopsy is really a heavyweight, you know.  And there’s not a very big surf on now.”

“That’s so, King.  But where can she be?” Then they went and talked with the fishermen, and then on to the Life-saving Station.

The big, good-hearted men all knew Marjorie, and all declared she had not been on the beach that afternoon,—­at least, not within their particular locality.

Discouraged, Cousin Jack and King turned down toward the pier.  Their inquiries were fruitless; though many people knew Midget, by sight, none had seen her.  There was nothing to do but go back home.

“Have you found her?” cried Cousin Ethel, as they entered the house.

“No; but the beach people haven’t seen her, so I’m sure there’s no accident of that sort.”  Cousin Jack wouldn’t make use of the word drowning, but they all knew what he meant.

Mrs. Maynard sat staring, in a sort of dull apathy.  She couldn’t realize that Marjorie was lost, she couldn’t believe an accident had befallen her, yet, where was she?

“Let’s search the house,” she said, jumping up suddenly.  “I must do something.  Couldn’t she have gone somewhere to read quietly, and fallen asleep?”

This was a possibility, and the house was searched from top to bottom by eager hunters.  But no Marjorie was found.

As it neared midnight, the ladies were persuaded to go to bed.

“You can do nothing, dear, by remaining up,” said Mr. Maynard to his wife.  “The Bryants will stay with us to-night, so you and Ethel go to your rooms, and King, too.  Jack and I will stay here in the library for a while.”

King demurred at being sent away, but his father explained that if he wanted to help, all he could do was to obey orders.  So King went upstairs, but not to his own room.  About an hour later he came down again, to find his father and Mr. Bryant still sitting in the library waiting for morning.