MISSING
"I left her here ten minutes ago!" gasped Ed, trembling with
excitement, as he related the news.
"She must have gone inside," replied Jack, equally alarmed. "We must
look before we tell the others."
"No, give the alarm first, and look afterward," insisted Ed. "The
thing that counts is to find her; people's nerves may rest afterwards.
I think we had best call the hotel manager. That message sent me was a
fake. It was an envelope addressed to me, and contained nothing but a
blank paper. It was a game to get me away from Cora!"
"Perhaps you are right. But I do hate to alarm every one. I know that
Cora would feel that way herself. What's this?" and Jack stooped to
the porch floor. "Her fan!"
Ed almost snatched the trinket from Jack's hand. "The chain is
broken," he said, "and she had it on when I left her. I remember how
she dropped the fan to her side and it hung there."
Here was a new proof of something very wrong--the chain was broken in
two places.
"Don't let us waste a moment," begged Ed, starting for the hotel
office. "I will speak with the manager first."
Jack felt as if something was gripping at his heart. Cora gone! Could
it be possible that anything had really happened to her? Could she
have been kidnapped? No, she must be somewhere with some of the girls.
He followed Ed mechanically into the office. The manager was at the
desk looking over the register.
"A young lady has just disappeared from the west-end porch," began Ed,
rather awkwardly, "and I fear that something strange has happened to
her. I was called in here by this fake message"--he produced a slip of
blank paper--"and while I was in here she disappeared."
"No one else gone?" asked the manager with a questioning smile.
"Why, no," replied Ed indignantly. "I was with Miss Kimball almost up
to the moment she disappeared."
Jack stepped forward. "I know that my sister would not give us one
moment's anxiety were it in her power to avoid it," he said. "She is
the most thoughtful girl in the world."
The manager was looking at the envelope Ed held. "Who did you say told
you about this?" he asked of Ed.
"A waiter."
"Just come along with me, and we will see the waiters and kitchen men
before we disturb the guests," said the manager.
They passed through the halls, where knots of the guests were strolling
about passing the time between the dances--all apparently happy and
contented. But Jack and Ed! What would be the outcome of their
anxiety?
"This way," said the hotel proprietor. "Let me see, you are----" he
paused suggestively.
"My name is Foster, and this is Mr. Kimball," said Ed.
In the kitchen they found everything in confusion. The chef had lined
up every man in the department, and he was questioning them.
"What's this?" asked Mr. Blake, the proprietor.
"Some one has been in here, or some one here has made away with a lot
of the silver and with money from the men's pockets," replied the chef
indignantly. "We have got to find out who is the culprit. I won't
stand for that sort of thing."
"Certainly not," Mr. Blake assured him, "but perhaps we can help you.
Mr. Foster, will you kindly pick out the man who told you about that
message?"
The men stood up. Ed scrutinized each carefully.
"None of these," he said finally.
"Are you sure every one is here, Max?" asked Mr. Blake.
"Every one, sir; even the last man I hired, who has never had an apron
on yet."
"Could it be any one from the outside?" faltered Jack.
"No one could get in here and manage to make his way through----"
"Excuse me, sir," said a very blond young waiter, "but I think a
stranger has been in here. My locker was broken open and my apron--one
of the best--is gone."
"Is that so?" spoke Mr. Blake sharply. "Then we have no time to spare.
The young lady----"
"Oh, don't say it," cried Jack. "Cora kidnapped!"
"Jack, old boy, be brave," whispered Ed, patting him on the shoulder.
"Wherever Cora is, the gods are with her!"
"We must first institute a thorough search," declared Mr. Blake. "You
men form an outside posse. Be quick. Search every inch of the
grounds. Max, no more kitchen duty to-night. Here, Ben, you ring the
hall bell. That will bring the porters together. Then, Dave"--to a
handsome young Englishman--"I put you in charge. That young lady must
be found tonight."
Ed and Jack exchanged glances. Would she really be found? Oh, how
terrible it all seemed!
"I must speak with Mr. Rand," said Jack. "Ed, you tell the girls."
All that had been gayety and gladness was instantly turned into
consternation and confusion. A young lady lured away from the Tip-Top!
And the hotel crowded with guests!
Belle was obliged to call for a doctor. Nor was it any case of
imagined nerves. The excitement of the big ball had been enough, the
disappearance of Cora was more than her weak heart could stand. Bess
tried to be brave, but to lose Cora! Then she recalled the face at the
window.
Hazel and Betty waited for nothing, but took up a lantern and started
out to search. If she had fallen down some place! Oh, if they could
only make her hear them!
"Here, porter," called Mr. Rand, when he had heard all the details that
could be given, "get me a donkey--a good, lively donkey. I can manage
one of the little beasts better than I can a horse. I used to ride one
in Egypt. I'll go over the hills if it is midnight."
"Oh, don't, Mr. Rand," begged Jack. "You are not strong enough to go
over the mountains that way."
"I am not, eh! Well, young man, I'll show you!" and he was already
waiting for the donkey to be brought up from the hotel stables.
"Nothing like a good donkey for a thing that has to be done."
But it was such a wild wilderness--the sort chosen just on that account
for hotel purposes. And after the brilliancy of the ballroom it did
seem so very dark out of doors.
"This way, Hazel," said Betty courageously. "I know the loneliest
spot. Maybe she has been stolen, and might be hidden away in that
hollow."
"But if we go there alone----"
"I'm not afraid," and Betty clutched her light stick. "If I found her,
they would hear me scream all the way to--Portland!"
Men were searching all over the grounds. Every possible sort of
outdoor lantern had been pressed into service, and the glare of
searchlights flickered from place to place like big fireflies.
It was terrible--everything dreadful was being imagined. Only Ed,
Walter and Jack tried to see a possibility of some mistake--of some
reasonable explanation.
It was exciting at first, that strange, dark hunt, but it soon became
dreary, dull and desolate.
Hazel and Betty gave up to have a good cry. Jack and Ed insisted upon
following Mr. Rand on horses, making their way over the mountain roads
and continually calling Cora.
Walter followed the advice of the hotel proprietor, and went to notify
the drivers of a stage line, which took passengers on at the Point.
But how suddenly all had been thrown into a panic of fear at the loss
of Cora! Not a girl to play pranks, in spite of some whispers about
the hotel, those most concerned knew that Cora Kimball was at least
being held a prisoner against her will somewhere; by whom, or with
whom, no one could conjecture.
What really had become of daring, dashing Cora Kimball?