Through Forest and Fire | Page 8

stopped with some of the
neighbors," ventured the mother, "but it is strange they do not send me
word."
And it was the very fact that such word was not sent that prevented the
husband and son from believing in the theory of the distressed mother.
But Nick did not let the grass grow under his feet. His worriment was
as great as that of his parents, and as soon as he was in the road he
broke into a trot, which he kept up until beyond sight, both father and
mother standing at the gate and watching him until he faded from view
in the gathering twilight.
The point where he disappeared was beyond the house of Mr. Marston,
so it was safe to conclude he had learned nothing of his sister there,
where he was seen to halt.
There is nothing more wearisome than waiting in such suspense as
came to the hearts of the father and mother, while they sat watching
and listening for the sound of the childish footsteps and voices whose
music would have been the sweetest on earth to them.
The supper on the table remained untasted, and the only sounds heard
were the solemn ticking of the old clock, the soft rustling of the kettle

on the stove, and now and then a long drawn sigh from father or mother,
as one strove to utter a comforting word to the other.
All at once the gate was opened and shut hastily. Then a hurried step
sounded along the short walk and upon the porch.
"There they are! there they are!" exclaimed the mother, starting to her
feet, as did the father.
Almost on the same instant the door was thrown open, and, panting and
excited, Nick Ribsam entered.
But he was alone, and the expression of his face showed that he had
brought bad news.
CHAPTER V.
THE PARTY OF SEARCH.
When Nick Ribsam set out to find his missing sister Nellie, he made
the search as thorough as possible.
The first house at which he stopped was that of Mr. Marston, which, it
will be remembered, was only a short distance away from his own
home. There, to his disappointment, he learned that their little girl had
not been at school that day, and consequently they could tell him
nothing.
Without waiting longer than to give a few words of explanation he
resumed his trot, and soon after turned into the lane leading to the home
of Mr. Kilgore. He found that both Bobby and Sallie had been to school,
but they had nothing to tell. When we are more than usually anxious to
learn something, it seems that every one whom we meet is stupid
beyond endurance. If we are in a strange place and apply for
information, the ignorance of nearly every person is exasperating.
Bobby and Sallie remembered seeing Nellie in school during the
forenoon and afternoon, but, while the boy insisted that she came along

the road with them after dismissal, Sallie was just as positive that the
missing girl was not with them.
The party of school children which usually went over the highway was
so small in number that it is hard to understand how such a mistake
could be made, but the difference between Bobby and Sallie was
irreconcilable.
"I know she didn't come home with us," said Sallie, stamping her foot
to give emphasis to the words.
"And I know she did," declared Bobby, equally emphatically, "for me
and her played tag."
"Why don't you say she and I played tag?" asked Nick, impatient with
both the children.
"'Cause it was me and her," insisted Bobby.
"What a dunce-head!" exclaimed his sister; "that was last night when
you played tag, and you tumbled over into the ditch and bellered like
the big baby you are."
"I remember that he did that last night," said Nick, hoping to help the
two to settle the dispute.
"I know I done that last night, but this afternoon I done it too. I fall into
the ditch every night and beller; I do it on purpose to fool them that are
chasing me."
Nick found he could gain nothing; but he believed the sister was right
and the brother wrong, as afterward proved to be the case.
There were no more houses between his own home and the school
building, and Nick resumed his dog trot, never halting until he came in
front of a little whitewashed cottage just beyond the stone
school-house.
The latter stood at the cross roads, and the cottage to the left was where

the teacher, Mr. Layton, an old bachelor, lived with his two maiden
sisters.
Mr. Layton, although strict to severity in the school-room, was a
kind-hearted man and was fond of the Ribsam children,