ON THE TRAIL
Flossie, Freddie and Nan were sobbing now. Their tears fell thick and
fast and they wailed aloud.
“Children! Children! Be quiet!” ordered Mrs. Bobbsey. “What does it all
mean? Baby May can’t have been taken. The carriage has been in plain
sight all the while. She’s probably under the covers, Nan! Don’t be
silly!”
“I’m not si-si-silly, Mother! Baby May’s gone! I—I felt under the
covers and she—she isn’t there.”
“I—I can’t feel her to-toes!” sobbed Flossie, her hand in the lower end
of the carriage.
By this time Mrs. Bobbsey herself had made sure there was no baby in the
carriage. She took out all the coverings.
“She must have tumbled out and crawled away,” she said. “She can’t be
gone! Look in the grass and bushes, children!”
“Wouldn’t she cry if she fell out?” Freddie wanted to know. He had
stopped crying when his mother came along.
“She might not cry if she fell on soft leaves and didn’t hurt herself,”
answered Mrs. Bobbsey. “Look carefully, children!”
But all the looking in the world would not have found Baby May just
then, and it did not take Mrs. Bobbsey long to make certain that the
infant was not around the carriage.
“Well, the worst has happened,” she said, and there was the sound of
tears in her own voice. “Baby May didn’t fall out. She was taken away!”
“I said she was kidnapped!” declared Nan. “Soon as I didn’t see her in
the carriage and didn’t feel her, I knew she was kidnapped! Oh, Mother!
what are we going to do? Poor Baby May!”
“I—I want her back!” sobbed Flossie.
“It was that old woman—that old woman with the green umbrella!”
exclaimed Freddie. “She took May off, I know she did!”
“I’m beginning to believe so,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “We must do something
at once. Call your father, Nan—oh, never mind. Here he comes now!”
Mr. Bobbsey had gone in the house after Nan and the children had
departed with their cookies, and now he came out on the porch again.
Seeing his wife and the children gathered around the carriage he seemed
to guess that something was wrong.
“Has anything happened?” he asked, as he hurried across the grass. “Did
May fall out? Why, where is she?” he asked, seeing Nan wheeling the
empty carriage.
“Oh, Richard!” sobbed Mrs. Bobbsey, “the little one is gone—kidnapped!”
“No! It isn’t possible! Under our very eyes! How could it happen?” Mr.
Bobbsey asked.
“I don’t know,” his wife said. “But she’s gone. The old woman must have
sneaked up between the time the children left the carriage to get the
cookies and the time they went back.”
“Then she must have been hiding around here, waiting for just such a
chance,” declared Mr. Bobbsey. “This is too much! I must notify the
police at once. An alarm must be sent out and we must get on the trail
of this person. I believe she is crazy! She ought not to be allowed at
large with a baby!”
“Will she—will she hurt Baby May?” asked Flossie, alarmed by her
father’s excitement.
Then, as his wife made him a signal to be more careful, so as not to
frighten the children, Mr. Bobbsey said:
“Oh, no, I don’t believe the old woman will hurt May. She must love her
a great deal to want to take her away. But anybody who will leave an
infant on the steps in a thunder storm shouldn’t be allowed to have
charge of children. I’ll get the police after her at once.”
It was one thing to speak about getting the police to work, but it was
quite another thing to do this. In the quiet little hamlet of Pine Hill
there were no regular police officers—only a constable or two and a
justice of the peace.
“But Jim Denton is pretty smart,” said Mr. Meekin, when he and his wife
had been told of the terrible happening. “I had a horse stolen once, and
Jim got it back for me in less than a week. I’ll telephone him.”
“Say, Dad, can’t you and I take the trail after this old woman
ourselves?” asked Bert, in a whisper of his father, while Mr. Meekin was
at the telephone, calling up the constable.
“Yes, I intend to do what I can,” answered Mr. Bobbsey. “I’ll take the
auto and ride along every road I think the old woman must have taken.
And you may go with me, Bert.”
“Oh, do you think that will be wise?” asked his wife, overhearing what
was said.
“Yes,” her husband answered. “Bert will be a help to me. We may have to
be gone all night.”
Bert’s eyes sparkled with pleasure as his father said this. It might be
a great adventure!
“Bert, you must take good care of yourself,” said his mother anxiously.
“I wouldn’t have anything happen to you for the world!”
“Oh, I’ll be all right, don’t worry,” returned the son, with all the
confidence of a growing boy.
“But that woman may not be as nice as you think. For all we know, she
may be crazy and liable to do any wicked thing,” remarked Mrs. Meekin.
“I’ll keep my eyes open,” declared Bert sturdily.
“Jim’ll be right over in his car,” said Mr. Meekin, as he hung up the
telephone. “And while we’re waiting, let’s look the ground over and see
what happened.”
“And you must have supper—I’ll get it ready right away,” said Mrs.
Meekin. “Land sakes! To think of such things happening! My goodness!”
She bustled off to get the meal, which was almost ready, and Mr.
Bobbsey, with Bert and Mr. Meekin, went to the place where the carriage
had been left for just a few minutes alone with Baby May in it. And yet
those few minutes were enough for the kidnapping to have taken place.
That it was a kidnapping—and done by the strange old woman in the faded
shawl and with the green umbrella—all were now certain. Of course no
one had seen her, but everything pointed to her.
“She just waited her chance and then sneaked up,” said Bert.
That seemed to have been the manner of it. The back of the carriage was
turned toward the house, to keep the sun out of May’s eyes as she lay
asleep. It would have been an easy matter for the old woman—or any one
else—to have sneaked up and taken the baby. She could lift the child,
asleep as she was, out of the carriage under the cover of the hood, and
the children and Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey on the porch could not see this
take place.
“Well, I can’t see anything here,” said Mr. Meekin, looking all around
the carriage.
“Nor I,” agreed Mr. Bobbsey.
“Let’s take a look up and down the road,” suggested Bert.
But nothing was in sight—no one in view. This was not strange, as there
were trees and bushes on either side of the highway, and it would have
been an easy matter for the kidnapper to have concealed herself in these
for a moment, or longer, and then to have taken some hidden path.
“Well, we must get on the trail at once,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “You have
the police, or whoever does such things, send out a general alarm, Mr.
Meekin. Bert and I will start off in our car, and when Jim Denton comes,
he can do his part.”
“Jim’s pretty good,” repeated Mr. Meekin. “He got back my horse.”
Mrs. Meekin had supper ready in a “jiffy,” as she called it. The meal
was not quite over when some one was heard running up the side porch. It
was some one in a hurry, that was very plain.