gs and went off in another direction,
and the girl winced as though some one had dropped a leaden weight on
her chest.

"Dad!" The voice did not sound like Mary V's, and her father ducked his
head out where he could look up at her with startled attention. "We
must have the car--and all the boys--and get out and find Johnny.
He--he started in his airplane, to come to the ranch. And they haven't
seen him since last night, and--and you know what happened at Sinkhole!"

Sudden got heavily to his feet and stood looking down at her, his
whimsical mouth slack with dismay. But he pulled himself together and
took the dominant, cool initiative which was so much a part of his
nature.

"You say he started last night. How do you know?"

"The hotel clerk--I 'phoned--oh, don't start cross-questioning, dad! I
_know_! His plane is gone, and--he should have been here last night!
He was alone, and--oh, get the boys and start them out! There isn't a
minute--he may be dead somewhere--or hurt--"

"Now, now, we'll only bungle things by getting excited, Mary V. I'll
send the cook after the boys while I fix this brake and fill up the gas
tank. You go get some clothes on, and tell your mother to get the
emergency box ready, in case he's hurt. And if you can be calm enough,
you 'phone to Tucson to the sheriff, and tell him to send out a party
from that end, and work this way. Tell them to scatter out, but keep
the general airline to the ranch. We'll start in from here. And for
Lord's sake, baby, don't look like that! We'll find him--and the
chances are he's all right; maybe landed for some little repair or
something. Now hurry along, if you expect to go with me, because I
won't wait a minute."

Mary V looked at her dad, standing there grease-smudged and calm and
capable, and half the terror went out of her eyes to leave room for
hope. Her dad had such a way of gathering up the threads of logic and
drawing them firmly into coherent action--just as a skilled driver
would take the slack reins of a runaway team and pull them down to a
steady pace. It seemed to her that Johnny Jewel was half found before
ever her dad laid down the wrench and began unscrewing the cap of the
gas tank.

Like a fluttering bluebird she flew back to the house to do his
bidding. Excited she was, and worried, and more than ever inclined to
exclamation points and unfinished sentences; but she was no longer
panic-stricken. She was the Mary V who woul