the gate while the
official called to him, and reached the track in time to see the train
pull out within a few yards of him.

"You blooming idiot!" cried the angry expressman as the Harvester ran
against him, "where did you go? Why didn't you help me? You are white as
a sheet! Have you lost your senses?"

"Worse!" groaned the Harvester. "Worse! I've lost what I prize most on
earth. How could I reach the conductor of that train?"

"Telegraph him at the next station. You can have an answer in a half
hour."

The Harvester ran to the office, and with shaking hand wrote this
message:

"Where did a tall girl with big black eyes and wearing a gray dress take
your train? Important."

Then he went out and minutely searched the depot and streets. He hired
an automobile to drive him over the business part of Onabasha for three
quarters of an hour. Up one street and down another he went slowly where
there were crowds, faster as he could, but never a sight of her. Then he
returned to the depot and found his message. It read, "Transferred to me
at Fort Wayne from Chicago."

"Chicago baggage!" he cried, and hurried to the check room. He had lost
almost an hour. When he reached the room he found the officials busy and
unwilling to be interrupted. Finally he learned there had been a half
dozen trunks from Chicago. All were taken save two, and one glance at
them told the Harvester that they did not belong to the girl in gray.
The others had been claimed by men having checks for them. If she had
been there, the officials had not noticed a tall girl having a white
face and dark eyes. When he could think of no further effort to make he
drove to the hospital.

Doctor Carey was not in his office, and the Harvester sat in the
revolving chair before the desk and gripped his head between his hands
as he tried to think. He could not remember anything more he could
have done, but since what he had done only ended in failure, he was
reproaching himself wildly that he had taken his eyes from the Girl an
instant after recognizing her. Yet it was in his blood to be decent and
he could not have run away and left a frightened woman and a hurt child.
Trusting to his fleet feet and strength he had taken time to replace the
box also, and then had met the crowd and delay. Just for the instant it
appeared to him as if he had done all a man could, and he had not found
her. If he allowed her to return to Chicago, probably he never would. He
leaned