Princess Polly At Play Part 21

It was the truth, but Mrs. Deland thought the speaker exceedingly hard-hearted. She had telephoned to everyone whom she thought might have seen Max, but all replied that he had not been noticed, and that proved that he had not been near them, for the boy was so saucy, so noisy, and so desperately active, that he must have been noticed if he was anywhere within sight.

"Nine!" chimed the clock, and a few of the guests of the house organized a searching party, and started out to hunt for Max.

They felt little interest in the matter, from the fact that the same thing had happened so many times that they seemed always to be searching for Max.

The boy had made himself a nuisance in countless ways, and while neither member wished any harm to come to Max, they felt that it would be a great relief if he and his mother would leave Cliffmore, and never think of returning.

Once outside the house, however, they made thorough work of their search, but although they looked in every place that a small boy might get into, and in many that seemed impossible, they did not find him.

One man, tired and disgusted, grumbled as he tramped along, and several others who did not utter the thoughts that filled their minds, felt every bit as disgusted as he did.

"It's nonsense, clear nonsense, tramping all over the place, hunting for a little run-away rascal, who, at this moment, is doubtless eating a comfortable meal, after having returned when he felt like it."

When they reached the house, they were surprised to find that Max was not there.

It was the first time that a party searching for the boy had returned to learn that he was still missing.

Mrs. Deland had become quite used to having Max away sometimes all day, and often until after eight in the evening, and, as a rule, she was reasonably calm, but that nine o'clock should have pa.s.sed without hearing from him seemed beyond belief.

With the return of the searching party her courage gave way, and she sank onto a low seat, her cheeks white, and her hands tightly clenched.

The women gathered about her, trying to comfort her, but she seemed not to hear what they said.

How still she sat, her hands still tightly clasped, her eyes looking from one face to another.

Then her eyes closed. She had fainted, and gently they carried her to her room, one woman promising to remain with her, after the doctor should have gone.

Gwen had acted so strangely that Mrs. Harcourt had ordered a light lunch sent up to their room, saying that Gwen was too ill to go down to dinner, and that she would remain with her. No sound of the excitement reached them. It was in vain that she questioned Gwen. Gwen only replied that she and Max had quarreled, and that he had been "just perfectly horrid."

When morning came, Gwen awoke feeling a bit better.

Having remained in their room all the afternoon and evening, they had heard nothing of the search for Max, nor did they know that he had not, as usual, returned.

CHAPTER XII

MAX A STOWAWAY

Soon after breakfast, Gwen, looking for someone to play with, ran across the broad piazza to where, pale and weary, Mrs. Deland sat.

"I want Max," cried Gwen, in her usual pert manner.

"Where is he? When is he coming out?"

Mrs. Deland uttered a low cry.

"He's lost, little Gwen! Haven't you heard? They are searching everywhere for him, and they force me, his mother, to remain here, and wait with what patience I may."

With a sudden impulse she threw her arms about Gwen, and held her close, then more gently lifted her face so that their eyes met.

"You loved my little Max," she said. "Are you sorry that he is not yet found? Stop a moment; you played with him yesterday. When did you last see him? When were you two children last together?"

"Oh, you're hurting me, holding me so tight. Let go, and I'll tell where I saw him," cried Gwen.

"Why, child, I didn't dream I was really hurting you. Now tell me."

"I saw him 'way over to Princess Polly's house," Gwen said slowly, "and we,--we, oh, we quarreled some, and Max didn't stay with me."

"Well, where did he go when he left you?" Mrs. Deland asked eagerly.

A crowd had gathered about the two, and stood listening.

"He told me not to tell," said Gwen, shutting her lips firmly together.

"What? You know where he is, and will not tell me, his own mother?

Why, child, I am sick with worrying. Tell me, this moment!"

Gwen made no reply.

She loved Max, but she had never liked his mother, and that she should command her to tell made the little girl more stubborn than she had ever been before.

"I wouldn't tell now even if Mrs. Deland and all those other women stuck pins into me," thought Gwen.

It was in vain that they questioned her. Pleading, threatening, coaxing were equally unavailing, and when Mrs. Harcourt, seeing the group, came out upon the piazza, Gwen flew to her, saying that everyone was teasing her.

"It is an outrage!" cried Mrs. Harcourt, her voice shrill with anger.

"I wonder what you can be thinking of? A half dozen grown people tormenting one small girl."

"My dear Mrs. Harcourt, you don't at all understand," said a tall, haughty-looking woman. "Your little daughter knows where the lost boy, Max Deland, is, and, although his mother is nearly wild with anxiety, she will not tell, that we may know where to find him."

Mrs. Harcourt hesitated. Then she looked at Gwen's flushed cheeks and downcast eyes.

"Do you know where Max is?" she asked.

"No, I _don't_!" snapped Gwen.

Mrs. Harcourt turned and faced them. She extended her hands.

"There!" she cried. "You see, do you not, that it was idle to tease Gwen? She does not know where he is."

"She certainly said that she knew where he went," said a stout lady.

"I do know where he _went_!" shouted Gwen, "but how do I know where he is _now_?"

"Where did he go?" questioned Mrs. Harcourt.