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Edith had quickly put her plan in execution, aided by the willing newspapers; but so far nothing had come of it, and mother and daughter feared their charge had lost more than aunt and cousin. South America, a very definite spot in the child’s mind, was still too vague a postoffice address for even Uncle Sam’s marvellous mail-carrying; and so, while encouraging May Nell, the two women tacitly adopted her into their hearts and discussed her future as if she were their own. Services were over before she found time to be lonely. Dinner passed happily. The cats stayed quietly in their chair till dessert, when they came, one on either side of Edith, and stood with their forepaws on the table, their heads and shoulders above it. Mrs. Bennett seemed to know exactly what to do. She took out and displayed to May Nell some of the generous gift of child’s wear sent by Mrs. Dorr from the wardrobe of the twins, placed the basket within the door, and introduced the children. Billy wondered what else might be in the basket that made it “act so heavy; it couldn’t be shoes.” He looked critically at May Nell’s small feet..

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“There’s a better way,” Billy called, when the deputy leading started to climb back as he had come. “Follow the creek; there’s a trail.” “Heavens to Betsey! We’ll do it!” Mrs. Wopp’s face assumed a forgiving air as she accepted this defence. Then began that portion of the story that leads up to the tragic culmination. “Oh Miss Gordon,” cried Betty, her dark brown eyes sparkling with delight, “the flowers can talk to each other across them telfone wires, can’t they?”.