In the street some boys were playing ball, among them, Lester Jenks.

“It might be that they were around the neighborhood, but haven’t yet come home,” ventured the gardener.

“That’s not likely,” said the coachman, “but we might ask a few questions of those boys.

“Hi, there, boys!  Have you seen Rose, or her friend Polly around here this afternoon?’

“They went down town with Rose’s aunt to Mr. Kirtland’s studio,” shouted Lester.  “Here, Jack, pitch decently, will you?”

“Look here, young feller!  This ain’t no joke.  Quit playin’ ball long ’nough ter hear what I say.  They’re lost, those two little girls are.  They haven’t come home!”

“I saw ’em down there, when I was there, and I left them there, in the little yard when I came home.”

“When was that?” said John.

“Oh, ’bout six, I guess,” said Lester.  “I don’t know exactly.”

The coachman hurried to the house.

“If ye please, ’m, the Jenks boy says he saw them out in the little garden that joins the studio at about six.  It’s about half past six, or so, now, ‘m, an’ ye’ve just reached home.  I can’t make out how ye missed them, but I think I’ll go over ter Mr. Kirtland’s house, and if he isn’t out ter some reception, like he often is, I’ll ask the loan of his key, and with the gardener, I’ll hunt there first.  I believe they’re there.”

Aunt Lois, now really wild with anxiety, could only say:  “Go, at once.  Go somewhere, do something, to find them.  See!  It is getting dusky.  Wherever they are, they are frightened, I know, and surely I am almost sick with fear for their safety.”

Mr. Kirtland was at home, and while he could not believe the children were in his studio, he felt that no place should be neglected in the effort to find them, and he insisted upon joining the searching party.

Meanwhile, in the studio the dusky shadows had grown deeper.  The two terrified little girls had begun to wonder if anyone would ever come for them.

They still clung to each other, and for some time not a sound had broken the stillness.  Naught save the ticking of the clock, and that did not startle them, but, rather, by its monotonous tune, seemed like a friend that sought to cheer them.

Not even a team passed, and no footstep upon the sidewalk told of a pedestrian who walked by the building.

“If you heard someone walk past this place would you wish he’d stop, or would you wish he wouldn’t?” whispered Rose.

“I’d hate to hear him go right by without stopping, because I’d know he wasn’t coming to take us home, but if he stopped I’d be scared!” whispered Polly.

“Hark!”

Rose grasped Polly’s arm.

“It’s in there!  It’s in there!” they shrieked, as if with one voice, then in a frightened little heap they slipped to the floor and tried to draw the rug over them to hide and shield them from they knew not what!