What to Do
Like the reflection of a cloud in a pool of water, a shadow passed over
the face of Arden Blake as Terry spoke to her. But she acted quickly.
"I'm sorry we must go so soon," Arden said to the somewhat puzzled boys.
"But if we miss that train we'll probably be campused. I'm sure Sim has
some good excuse for her absence, but we'd better find her and learn what
it is. I'll have to say good-bye for her. I really don't know what to
think."
"It's all right," Dick Randall remarked. "You and Terry go along. Perhaps
Sim is upstairs waiting for you."
"She doesn't usually do things like this. But I suppose we really should
go up," Arden agreed. "We haven't much time."
Saying good-bye again, Terry and Arden left the group of boys and walked
toward the elevator. But when they reached the room, high up in the large
hotel, Sim's bag was closed and packed, as Terry discovered, on the
middle of the bed. And she exclaimed:
"She isn't here, Arden! We must phone Mary Todd's room."
"I'll do it," Arden promptly offered. "She may be down there talking
things over." She hurried to the instrument.
But Mary Todd hadn't seen Sim since early afternoon!
"Don't say anything to anyone, will you, Mary?" Arden pleaded. "I don't
want Mrs. Malvern to know yet."
"Of course not!" Mary answered. "But Sim will turn up. Don't worry!
'Bye!" and she hung up.
"She isn't there, either," said Arden, turning to Terry. "What's the next
move?"
Terry considered. "Well, this is a pretty big place. Sim may be--"
The telephone jingled shrilly. Both girls sprang to answer, but Terry got
there first.
"Yes, Mrs. Malvern," she said sweetly. "We're all ready, and we'll be in
the lobby in a few minutes. Yes. Good-bye!"
Quickly she turned from the telephone.
"Oh, what shall we do? Mrs. Malvern will see that Sim isn't with us!
Think of something, Arden! Quick!"
"We'll have to go down, anyhow," said Arden, pulling her dress over her
head. "Maybe, in the crowd, she won't notice that Sim is missing. Hurry,
Terry, and change your dress."
"I am hurrying. I'm as nearly ready as you are. We mustn't show we are
excited. She really could be--lots of places."
"Whatever possessed Sim to do a thing like this?" Arden was struggling
with her garments.
"She's probably got some idea into her head. Unless she's been kidnaped
and is being held for a ransom!"
Both girls stopped their dressing, suddenly frightened, Terry no less,
though she had spoken the words. They had been spoken jokingly, but the
possibility of such a terrible happening was not pleasant to consider.
"Oh, Terry! Do you think we better tell Mrs. Malvern after all? The
police----"
"No! No! I was only joking. I have a lot of confidence in Sim. She can
take care of herself. She knows people in New York. If she isn't in the
lobby when we get there, we'll have to decide what to do then." Terry was
putting on her hat.
"I'm ready. I'll take her bag and mine. You shut the door."
Arden swept a last glance around the room. She stepped into the corridor,
followed by Terry, who pulled the door shut. They both quickly looked
down the long hall. It was empty.
"Hurry, Arden, into the elevator, before someone sees there are only two
of us when there should be three!"
By the greatest of good luck the elevator came quickly in answer to their
ring. It was almost filled with chattering girls, and when it reached the
ground floor it was impossible to see who got off.
The girls for Cedar Ridge were assembled in the magnificent lobby; a
happy, chattering, laughing group. Terry and Arden, in unspoken
agreement, worked themselves gradually as near to the center of the
throng as they could, hoping Mrs. Malvern's gimlet eyes would not note
the absence of Sim.
"Come, girls, get together!" The chaperon was herding them toward the
door leading to the waiting cabs. "Tell the driver to take you to
Thirty-third Street tube station and there take a train for Hoboken. When
you get there, ask at the information desk which is the next train for
Cedar Ridge, and don't forget to sign in as soon as you get back. That is
important. We shall have to separate from now on."
So far so good. Terry and Arden guiltily got into a gaudy taxi with three
other girls. The two were thinking so much about Sim; wondering if,
should they go on thinking, some subconscious influence would not cause
someone to ask about her. The only thing to do was to talk to the other
girls about the dance to keep their thoughts occupied with that subject.
"Did they make any money, do you know?" Arden asked a strange girl, one
of the three riding with her and Terry.
"They cleared expenses, but I heard they only have a few dollars over."
"It was a nice party, anyhow," Terry put in, looking anxiously out of the
window. "The music was grand!"
And that ended the half-hearted attempt at conversation. Both Arden and
Terry had too much on their minds to do much talking. The other girls
were intimately whispering among themselves. They seemed to give no
thought to the missing Sim, nor to the fact that Arden and Terry had been
two of a trio, inseparable, but were now only a duet.
Their problem was a difficult one.
Where was Sim?
If she was not waiting at the tube station or in Hoboken, what should
they do? How could they get back to Cedar Ridge without Mrs. Malvern or
someone with inquisitive authority finding out about the missing girl?
Arden privately decided, if they did not find Sim at either station, to
tell Mrs. Malvern at the first opportunity.
Terry, whose thoughts were following the same line as were Arden's,
decided, if they reached Cedar Ridge and found no trace of Sim, that it
would be best at once to telephone from college to the parents of the
missing girl and ask for advice.
There was a milling throng on the platform of the Thirty-third Street
tube station on one side of which trains left for Jersey City and Newark,
and on the other side for Hoboken and thence to Cedar Ridge. As well as
they could, Terry and Arden peered through the crowd for Sim. But she was
not to be seen, and the hope thermometer in their hearts went nearer the
zero mark.
The train was crowded, and it was almost impossible for Arden and Terry
to converse above the noise. It didn't matter. They had nothing of
interest to talk about, now. They looked anxiously at each other. Were
they deserting Sim? Or rather, were they not showing real confidence in
her? She must be safe! The excitement of the travel was helping to cheer
her chums.
When Hoboken terminus was reached and the crowds poured out as they had
flowed in, once more the two sought anxiously among the many faces. But
though there were scores of their fellow students hurrying to catch the
next Cedar Ridge train, Sim was not among them.
"She may be on the platform waiting for us," suggested Terry with a hope
she did not feel.
"Maybe," Arden murmured prayerfully.
They almost stumbled up the concrete steps in their haste. The ramp, from
the iron gates of which departed many trains for many places, was another
place of milling crowds outside the station. A man in a portable
information booth was answering questions in a very patient manner.
By listening, without asking, Terry and Arden learned from which track
their train departed and the time. They had a few precious minutes left.
"Let's look around out here and then go inside," proposed Terry, who was
lugging along Sim's bag with her own.
"She isn't here," Arden sighed, after a search. "Let's go inside the
station."
There they looked about the big vaulted room: ticket offices on one side,
a rank of telephone booths on another, a buffet restaurant, a magazine
stand, a large candy booth. All of these spots were eagerly scanned
without result.
Apparently just to say "hello" to friends, Terry and Arden went from one
group of waiting girls to another, glimpsing the pretty, animated faces,
but Sim's was not among them. It seemed hopeless.
Now, really frightened, Arden and Terry clung together as the stentorian
voice announced their train in long-drawn accents.
"We'll have to go!" murmured Terry desperately.
"Yes. We can't wait any longer. But she may be in the train." It was a
sort of last hope for Arden.
"We can look, if it isn't too crowded," Terry suggested.
But it was. In all the coaches, for most of the college girls had caught
this train back, were repeated the same scenes, the same talk and
laughter that had marked the going trip. The seekers could not locate Sim
in the coach where they were crowded, and they did not dare pass from one
car to another as the train quickly gathered speed after leaving Hoboken.
The ride back was almost a nightmare for Terry and Arden, and when the
train pulled into the Morrisville station, which was the college stop,
they were pale and more worried than ever.
"Maybe she is already here," breathed Terry, as they alighted. It was a
brave attempt to brighten the situation.
"Maybe. Let's hurry and see if she has signed in." Arden was only too
glad to seize on Terry's suggestion.
They almost ran along the path from the station to the college. Terry
still insisted on clinging to Sim's bag, though Arden wanted to do her
share of carrying it. Then up those back-breaking stairs and into the big
recreation room where the registry book was kept for this occasion.
Signing their own names, the two frightened freshmen scanned the pages
for Sim's.
"No, Arden, she hasn't come in." Terry turned sadly from the book.
"I left a space between your name and mine," Arden said, "so in case Sim
comes in later she can slip hers in without being caught. Hurry, Terry,
let's get to our room so we can talk this out and decide
upon--something."