y.
"But I'm so happy, I'll forgive you even that--"

"It's you that ought to be forgiven for calling me names," returned Grace,
in an injured tone of voice. "Goodness," she cried, a moment later,
pointing a moist and tired chocolate in the direction of the horizon. "Am
I mistaken, or is that the stalwart figure of our sergeant approaching in
the distance?"

"Oh, it is, it is!" cried Betty, springing to her feet and fairly dancing
in her excitement and impatience. "Oh, I can't wait! Why doesn't he
hurry?"

As a matter of fact, the sergeant was hurrying very much indeed, for he
was almost as eager as the girls to see the old lady and collect the
evidence in the case against the motorcyclist.

He was panting as he sprang up the steps toward them and his eyes were
bright with anticipation.

"I got back as soon as I could," he cried. "Now, if you can take me--"

The girls wasted no time in words, and led him swiftly up the stairs,
pausing before Mrs. Sanderson's door.

"What shall we do if she's gone?" whispered Betty, a sudden panic seizing
her. Then, without further delay, rapped smartly on the door.

At the answering "come in" they tumbled into the room, followed by
Sergeant Mullins. Then it was the second miracle happened!

Mrs. Sanderson started, stared, then rose tremblingly to her feet.

"My Willie boy!" she cried, groping toward him, dazed, unbelieving,
incredulous. "It's my boy, my little son--my--baby--"

Then Sergeant Mullins, with a hoarse cry, rushed across the room and
gathered the little figure in his arms--strong, man's arms that crushed
and hurt.

"Mother!" he cried. "Oh, my mother!"

CHAPTER XXIV

MYSTERY EXPLAINED

The girls stared for a moment, dazed, bewildered. Stared at the dark head
bent in such passionate tenderness over the gray one, stared at the old
hands patting the broad young shoulders, tremblingly, joyfully,
incredulously, then, with a stifled gasp, turned and fled.

Betty closed the door softly and followed the girls into their own room
where they sank down on arms of chairs or tables or the edge of the
bed--any place--and went on staring, only this time at each other.

"Betty Nelson," Mollie broke out at last, her eyes dark and wide, her
voice awed, "did you ever in your life hear of such a thing?"

"Of course I never did," answered Betty, her lips trembling, her eyes
shining and wet. "Not since my fairy-story days, anyway," she added
softly.

"But how," Grac